


In Need

by spittingfeathers



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, its been sitting in my drafts so I decided to post it, just a little plot, was going to leave it at just one chapter but who am I kidding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-03 14:57:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4105084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spittingfeathers/pseuds/spittingfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on business Stannis is far too tense to get to sleep and can't quite relax himself. He needs someone else to do it for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Need

He was out of town on business for Storms End and so frustrated he couldn’t sleep. The room was comfortable enough but there was tension in his body that he knew would never be satisfied with his own hand. Not to say that he hadn’t tried.

He’d discarded his suit jacket and tie some time ago, his shoes kicked off at the end of the bed and undone his trousers, his hand reaching for his shaft to pull at the half-hard length. He knew what he liked, years of being alone and little time for a social life had seen to that, but his regular movements were dull and unsatisfactory. He tried thinking of the last time he’d had sex, though that too failed to spark anything close to the pleasure he needed to bring himself off.

His jaw ached where he’d ground his teeth together and forced out a frustrated groan as he gave up. He was far too tense to be able to sleep, but nothing he was doing would be so satisfying as it would be if someone else was here to do it to him.

He hadn’t been with a woman in years and by now his reputation was well known for being hard and cold. Thoroughly unlikeable, someone had called him once. He doubted that anyone would want to lay with him unless he paid them, and even then he couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t go to the papers and spread the sordid tale across Westeros. Neither Robert nor Renly had this problem. Robert still enjoyed sleeping with everything that moved and Renly having settled down with the Loras Tyrell, despite Stannis’ warnings he be careful about company ‘enquiries’.

It seemed his only option of a woman that wouldn’t blab about his inexperience and be willing to satisfy his needs would have to be paid. He could afford it too.

What he needed was a discreet, high-end, escort agency that while pricy would keep quiet about all acts and words said between him and the woman they would send. There really was only one worth calling - The Silent Sisters. He knew they were true to what they advertised - Robert had paid for them often enough, though their need for secrecy was often wasted on him.

A part of Stannis hoped that they would send the same one Robert had jokingly left for him on his twentieth birthday. The woman Robert had ‘booked’ for him had hair like fire and a low accented voice that made him shiver. He’d been dazed as soon as he’d walked into his room and seen her sitting on his bed, her skin all soft and creamy white, pink pebbled nipples and bare of hair between her legs. She had been a little older than him and wore nothing but a thin silk robe that fell open as soon as she walked toward him. She’d laughed softly at the awed expression on his face and pressed herself against him and began to kiss along his neck and nibble at his ear with her teeth. Part of him had thought he’d been in a dream until he felt her reach down and rub him through his trousers.

He often wondered what it would have been like if he hadn’t panicked and she had stayed. What he’d panicked about he can’t rightly remember, only that he’d sent her away amidst Robert’s roaring laughter and Renly’s protests to Ned Stark, who always seemed to be with Robert, that he ‘wanted to see!’. Robert had found the whole thing hilarious and though Ned’s face was grim there was something like amusement in his eyes as he covered Renly’s with his hand.

In that moment, red faced with embarrassment, Stannis had hated them both. Despite the fact that Robert had probably spent thousands on hiring her services for the night Robert didn’t seem bothered and sent her away with a tip and a wink as the woman had gathered her coat and slunk out the door. For weeks afterward Stannis could barely look anyone in the face and the scowl he would greet Robert with if his brother dared to speak to him (always laughing) would have been enough to kill.

As soon as he’d made the call, he regretted it. Robert would laugh himself sick if he ever found out. The call seemed to go on forever.

_“Your room number?”_

_“206”_

_“Any preferences?”_

_“Red hair. Over twenty-five.”_

_“Very good. Anything else?”_

_“No.”_

_“Very well, sir, we'll sort that for you. Travel will take roughly thirty minutes. Have a good night, sir.”_

Stannis heard the phone disconnect and he dropped his mobile onto the bed beside him.

 _Gods_ , he thought, _I hope I don’t regret this._

 


	2. Interrupted

She’d felt restless all day. Refusing to wear anything more presentable than a pair of old leggings and a too-large top that had _Kings Landing University_ printed in faded ink across the front. Everything had already been prepared; packing, redirection of mail, renting a storage container, informing an agent that she wanted to rent out her apartment by the end of the month…

With little else to do Sansa ended up watching reruns of old shows until the sky darkened and it finally reached a reasonable time for her to go to bed. She was rather looking forward to going home.

She was due to depart tomorrow morning around eleven so she could reach Winterfell by three or four o’clock (depending on the traffic along the Kings Road). She’d move back in with her parents until she found a place of her own, having finally accepted the job her father had been holding out for her in Marketing at Stark Industries. It was rather lonely in her apartment at night and Sansa whistled instinctively before realising Lady, her pet husky, had already been taken back home a few days ago. She had been driven by a rather reluctant Arya along with the rest of her things that were not going into storage.

Arya of course had made her discontent known, having to make the four hour drive to collect Sansa’s ‘crap’ and then drive back home again. Well, that was until she spotted Gendry Waters helping her carry the boxes to the car. He worked for the maintenance team in her building and they’d become friends over the years Sansa had lived there. Arya had managed to persuade Sansa to let her stay the night and drive back in the morning, often mentioning that she seemed to have such a good life here that she really didn’t know why she wanted to come back home--perhaps she should stay?

“I’ll even promise to visit more often!” Arya told her loftily.

Sansa had simply raised one of her eyebrows, smirked smugly, and said “Oh really?” Arya’s pale skin had flushed a dark red and Sansa had laughed. “Here,” she said, removing Gendry’s card from the fridge, “it’s his number.”

Arya looked angrily embarrassed, but didn’t refuse the card, tucking it into her pocket.

To be honest Sansa would have been home at Winterfell sooner (alright, straight out of university), had it not been for her student debt.

Initially Sansa had wanted to work in Marketing at Stark Industries, but the job didn’t pay enough and she’d refused to let her parents shoulder the burden of her university debt. The amount was staggering. Three years studying should not equate to $90,000!

But now that was all in the past - miraculously paid off in six years, almost unheard of if your name didn’t end with _Lannister_. Her parents had been shocked, but so relieved and incredibly proud to hear that Sansa had paid it all off herself. She snorted a laugh as she imagined the horrified looks of her parents if they ever found out how she’d really paid off her student debt. Of course, to save them the worry, and panic, she told them a little white lie.

_“Yes, I’ve got a job, no it won’t interfere with my university work--he was impressed with my CV and I felt the interview went well…”_

_They’d put her on speaker phone and she could tell her parents were feeling a mixture of elation and hurt. “Why didn’t you tell us?”_

_“I didn’t want to get your hopes up, I didn’t know whether I would get it or not and--”_

_Sansa could hear the pride in their tone now as they rushed to reassure her, “Of course you would - he would have been a fool not to hire you! What did you say his name was?”_

_“Oh, I can’t really remember, it’s really long...he’s from Asshai looking to do business with a few people in Kings Landing -- but It’s all quite hush-hush so I can’t tell you much!”_

_“It sounds so exciting!” her mother had said and she could hear Bran, Rickon, Robb and John calling out their congratulations in the background. “But we understand completely, we’re so happy for you, darling! Give us a call and let us know how your first day goes!”_

Her family had bought it of course. Their questions were easy enough to fend off when they called asking how she was getting on. She had practiced them with some of the other girls - most of them had told their own families some version of the same story, even giving Sansa the number they used when their families got too curious.

No one would ever guess the truth.  

The Silent Sisters were a ‘High-end Escort Service’ but she was, essentially, a prostitute. They were both the same thing really.

The way she’d come about her ‘job’ had been entirely by accident. She’d been rather lonely at the time, and incredibly frustrated and spilled all to Margery over (several) drinks. Margery was a great listener and always knew just what to do, so when she had subtly handed her a card and suggested she call the number, and tell them Margery sent her... well, she didn’t doubt her friend. When Sansa eventually did ring the number and got over her shock, she was immediately on the phone to Margery.

Sansa had at first been shy, embarrassed and pretended to be shocked that Margery would even suggest such a thing, but a small part of her was curious and wanted to know more. Margery let her be, and when she plucked up the courage to ask, her friend explained that the agency had contracts and clauses for the exchanges that went on between the clients and the ‘Silent Sisters’.

The secrecy side did appeal, as did the fact that the clients sent in requests and bios and if the girls didn’t want to take on the client then they didn’t have to - a simple ‘no’ and that was that. Slowly, Margery let Sansa know more details about what it was like to be a ‘silent sister’ _and then_ Margery had mentioned the money. The figures had made her eyes widen and jaw drop open comically.

“I love sex, and I love money.” Margery had said. “When I get an itch that needs scratching there’s always someone to choose from, and I get paid for it. It’s not as bad as people make it out to be, honestly. My body is mine and I can do what I like with it.” Margery had fished out a thick wad of notes from a draw in her vanity and tossed it to Sansa. There had to be well over five grand in the bundle. “That was just the deposit.” she winked.

While Sansa wasn’t actually struggling, money was still tight and she actually wanted to enjoy herself at KLU rather than have to cut back on shopping and nights out. The Silent Sisters was certainly looking like it could both let her enjoy herself and pay off her debt in a matter of years. It took a few weeks but eventually Sansa decided to give it a go and was given some very _educational_ dvds to look over. She had returned them to Margery red faced and said she would like to join.

Sansa’s first client had been a handsome man called Harry Hardying. He was sweet, attentive and though he probably could have any girl he wanted, without having to pay them, he liked the Silent Sisters enough to call them twice a month for a meeting. Her second was a man in his thirties called Sandor, whose only ‘preference’ was a girl who would look him in the face. The pictures he’d sent had been impressive - ex army - and the muscles had made her mouth water. He was _good_ , and he called for her as often as he called the Silent Sisters. Sansa might have actually considered dating him if it wasn’t for his drinking and gambling habits.

It had been a few months after Sandor that she had been sent a file for another client. He was a slightly older man, mid-forties but smart looking. This time it had been a little different as mostly he wanted to take her to high-society events and buy her dresses and jewelery. The sex was great too. He was very good with his hands.

There had been a few clients in between those, all nice enough and Sansa had grown to love her job, becoming confident in her body and what she did until she realised she’d made more than enough money to pay off her loan. It went on for a few months more, Sansa only taking up a few clients that caught her interest until she contacted the Silent Sisters and said that she would be moving back home. She’d got to know many of the other girls quite well and would miss them all terribly, having promised to visit every now and then to keep in contact. They wished her well, thanked her for working with them and hope she found what she was looking for.

Sansa sighed and pulled out one of her favourite books, hoping to release some of the tension she’d built up today. The book is well loved, evidenced by the cracked spine and pages that have all fallen out at some point, now only held together with superglue and yellowing tape. Sansa doesn’t bother with the build up, though usually that’s one of the best parts, and skips straight to one of her favourite chapters.

_He dragged the tips of his fingers lightly down her side leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Do you know, Miss Smith, how long I’ve wanted you?” She moaned softly at his husky tone and pressed herself closer to him so they were chest to chest. “Months” he finishes in a growl. His hand moves downward and along her thigh, his fingers grazing her mound and she arches into him, her legs parting as he--_

The sudden sharp ringing of her phone makes Sansa yelp and drop her book, her hand jerking out from underneath the waistband of her leggings as she hastily wipes her hand and fumbles for her phone. The caller ID is familiar to her.

“ _What_?”

Margery laughs on the other end. “Caught you at a bad moment have I?”

Sansa sighs, she can’t deny it, but they’re close enough now that it doesn’t matter what they share. “You have awful timing you know.” She admits. Sansa can almost hear the grin on Margery’s face.

“I have the _best_ timing. Especially as I’ve got a new client right here just--”

“I told you Margery, I don’t need to do it anymore.”

She imagines Margery rolling her eyes. “I know you said it was only until you paid off your student debt, but I really think you’ll like this one.”

Sansa looked down at her book lying face down on the rug. A few more pages had come loose and lay scattered about her floor. It was rather sad really.

“Alright. I’ll bite. Who have you got?”

Margery laughs, clearly pleased that she’s managed to catch Sansa’s interest, or at least her frustration, and talks her through the profile as Sansa fetches her laptop and opens up the protected files Margery has sent her.

Sansa reads them through, becoming quite impressed as she reads more.

When booking clients are asked a series of questions to help find the right escort for them. After they’ve given details about their preferences and a few other things they then usually go through a series of checks by the company, finding out further information on their history. The name of the client is usually at the end of the document so as not to influence any of the girls into picking them before they find out whether they’re a good match.

If they’ve used the Silent Sisters before they can ask for the same girl or tweak what preferences they have for the meeting. The call is recorded and the client is entered into a verbal agreement, contracts are then sent through email or a recorded delivery with a trusted employee of the company and then research is done on that particular person. What the client doesn’t know is that the employees of the Silent Sisters are then given the choice of who they want to take on as a client and not the other way around. It’s rare that a client can be denied completely but if it’s known that they have a history of violence or abuse or their preferences are not something any of the girls feel comfortable with then they will be politely refused, refunded and directed away from using the company's services.

“Just so you know I’ve already checked him out and he’s just your type. I also took the liberty of accepting on your behalf.”

“Margery! What did you do that for--you know I’m going home tomorrow!”

“Don’t worry, it seems like it’s just a one night thing and I do think this one will be an _early riser_.”

Sansa feels a little annoyed, her friend has never done this before but she’s usually right. The ache between her legs seems to intensify and she reads through the information a little quicker.

“You are incorrigible.” Sansa mutters back, looking through the long list of awards for business until she finally reaches the preferences set out by the client.

“Wait a second…” Sansa looks back over the preferences she’s just read and hears Margery laughing on the other end of the phone. "No. Way."

No, her eyes did not deceive her.

The man had no preferences. At all. He was leaving it up to the girl--now that was unheard of.

“I thought you might like him.” Margery chimes. “But it gets better -- skip to the end!”

Sansa mutters the words under her breath as she reads them through with disbelief, “...want it to be as natural as possible...relaxing...oh--you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s fate!” Margery cackles as Sansa lets out a moan and a furious blush. “Aren’t you glad I accepted for you? Several of the other girls were also thinking about accepting - he’s sure to be passionate, being wound up so tight cannot be good for you!”

Sansa has to bury the phone against her pillows so the sound of her breathy moan is muffled. He’s letting her have free reign--gods she already knows where she wants to start.

Margery begins speaking again and Sansa has to pull the phone back to her ear quickly, managing to catch the last little bit of what her friend is saying.

“...and you best be quick about it, the driver will be pulling up in about half an hour--”

Sansa hangs up before Margery finishes and dashes to her room. She hears her phone start to ring again but she ignores it. **  
** What on earth is she going to wear?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've come to realise that I can't do short fics. Or leave drafts unfinished. Everything is going to be done I swear. All Is Aglow is next.


	3. Knock Knock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised the last time i updated this fic was in June, and I had most of it written...oops

Sansa decided on low heeled pumps, pencil skirt, white blouse and a cream trench coat over the top. She twisted her hair and pinned it quickly in place atop her head, adding lipstick, mascara and a little bit of eyeliner to finish her look. Outwardly, she wanted to appear like a business woman (of a more socially acceptable profession), so that should anyone question it, Stannis Baratheon could say that he was in a meeting or closing a deal and everyone would believe it. They all knew how hard he worked so it would be easy. Though to be honest if he told them that he was meeting an escort they’d probably faint or laugh or assume he was joking, not that Stannis often joked, but still.

However, though she might look like an ordinary businesswoman outside, beneath, she wore some rather lovely lingerie. She had at first thought to wear the black and gold set (bought purely by chance a few months ago and not because they were the colours favoured by Stannis Baratheon on his family coat of arms) but wore her favourite set instead. Both the bra and pants were coloured an icy blue and completely made of lace, the pants were styled like tiny shorts and hugged her bum tightly. The blue set was not as provocative as the black and gold, but pretty and very comfortable. Not that she intended to wear them for very long…

The Driver seemed to arrive just as she was packing the rest of her overnight things and she quickly left her apartment, said goodbye to the Night Guard and slipped into the back seat of the car, nervously uttering a hello to Podrick, the driver.

“Don’t worry, won’t be long.” he said, ever cheerful. “Looking forward to it?”

“Yes,” Sansa replied, “but rather nervous.” She admitted. Podrick didn’t know the names of who the girls chose, or any important information other than where he would pick them up and drop them off.

“Nervous? That’s not like you.” He said curiously, glancing at her through the mirror. “Must be someone special…”

She simply smiled and hummed in agreement. Inside, her stomach was rolling with anticipation. Or perhaps it was nausea, she didn’t know. Probably both.

She’d had a ‘thing’ for Stannis Baratheon before she ever realised she had a thing for anyone. Of course Sansa didn’t realise the attraction for what it was at the time, having had several boyfriends who couldn’t have been more different from Stannis Baratheon - young, classically good looking, charming. It was only later when she joined the agency that she and the other girls had been showing her who had been clients in the past and who they wished would become clients. Of course, all these people had to be rich, and when it was her turn, Stannis’ name had slipped her lips before she even knew it.

Not to say that Stannis wasn’t good looking. His features were arresting. He was tall and rather thin making him seem rather bony at times, but there was something about him. Perhaps the intensity of his eyes or how he would pay his full attention to every word you said, or how when he spoke his voice sometimes rumbled... _gods she had it bad_.

Sansa remembered her face starting to burn, expecting a few laughs or raised brows, when some of the other girls agreed and they moved on. When she went home that night she would wonder about her answer, and how it came to her so quickly, summarising that her crush was ok because it would never happen. So it also didn’t matter that when she was frustrated or in need of some downtime that she pictured his face and muttered (and sighed) his name as she finished.

The ‘thing’ she felt had faded since then, or perhaps had simply been pushed to the back of her mind into the ‘never in a million years’ category, but now the chance was there...she could barely keep it together. It felt like her first time all over again, nervous but exciting. She wondered what he’d be like--

“Have a nice time,” Podrick smiled, his voice bringing Sansa from her thoughts and the ache between her legs.

Sansa smiled back, “I’m sure I will” and winked, making him laugh as she grabbed her things and left the car, knowing Podrick would wait until she entered The Kings Hotel before he would drive away.

Sansa walked calmly through the lobby, head held high, the lift already in mind and no one batted an eyelid. She looked like she belonged there, and because of it, no one paid her any attention. Margery had probably called the hotel and told them to expect her, or, Stannis had done it, so she wouldn’t be caught out or have to leave or state her ‘purpose’.

She could just imagine it now. “ _Hopefully, I’m going to have hot, mind blowing sex with Stannis Baratheon_.” It’d probably hit the papers before she reached his room.

The elevator operator opened the doors and she announced the room number she wanted. The doors closed smoothly and the elevator began its journey upward.

The time it took to get to the right floor seemed to take forever until finally it stopped and the doors opened. She thanked the operator and stepped out. Room 206 had it’s own lobby and seems to take up a third of the whole floor.

Taking a deep breath, brushing imaginary lint from her clothes, Sansa knocked and waited.

*****

Before he knew it there was a knock on the door and Stannis felt his palms begin to sweat with nerves. Gods, if this didn’t work out then he was never calling an agency again. His hand would have to do, satisfying or not.

He’d done up his trousers and straightened out his shirt during his anxious pacing in the room, which he’d neatened up while he did so. Robert’s voice sounded in his head.

_Pull yourself together! She’s a hooker not some twit you’re trying to impress--_

While that was true, but it didn’t mean she didn’t deserve respect. A tidy apartment would make him feel more comfortable anyway.

He wouldn’t be surprised if he’d worn a hole in the carpet or gave the person in the room below his cause to complain. Perhaps he’d get a noise complaint later…

He gave one last look over the room to check everything was in order (it was) before he moved to the door.

His hand hovered over the handle.

This was ridiculous. Nothing was worth the gnawing feeling in his stomach. He’d send the girl away. Save himself the embarrassment--Gods he felt sick. With a deep breath in, Stannis opened the door in one quick movement. His mouth already forming the first words of rejection, telling her he won’t be needing her ‘services’ when his mouth catches up to his eyes and the words get stuck in his throat. The woman standing before him is beautiful, no, stunning. His teeth clicked audibly as his jaw snapped shut.

The woman smiles revealing white straight teeth framed by full red lips and breezes into his room.

“Sorry if I’m a bit late. I caught every traffic light on the way--” He is stunned by her familiarity and she chatters about something or other as she removes her beige trench coat to hang up on a hook and her overnight bag tossed onto the floor by the door to the ensuite. The clothes she’s wearing are not provocative, and certainly not the silk dressing gown he had seen on his first ‘Silent Sister’. She looks as though she’s about to head into Baratheon Inc and start work, though he doubts that these clothes fit anyone but her so well. The skirt hugs her curves smoothly, rounding up and over her hip to accentuate her slim waist and he thinks he can almost see through her shirt…

Stannis honestly doesn’t know what he was expecting, but this certainly wasn’t it.

"Are you alright? You're looking rather tense..." She walks up to him, looks straight into his face and her hands slide up to his shoulders and begin kneading the tense muscles there. The concern in her voice is feigned - obviously, she wouldn't be here of her own accord. Her fingers dig into a tough knot and he surpasses a groan. “It must have been a hard week at work...I can help with that. Just relax..." She purrs in his ear, her hot breath tickling his stubble covered jaw.

Stannis opens his eyes. When had he closed them? He looks into her smiling face, blue eyes lined with dark pencil, cheeks a little flushed and lips painted a dark red. She pouts and he cannot resist imagining her lips around his--She presses herself against him and he can feel the soft press of her breasts against his chest and the vibration that travels through him when she lets out a decadent sigh, her eyes lowering to half lids.

His mouth had gone dry, he can barely speak. She must think him an utter fool.

Her hands slide down his sides underneath his arms and travel lower and... She lets out a giggle when he jerks suddenly, her hands giving his arse a quick squeeze. Stannis can feel his face flush an ugly red.

She bites her lip and Stannis feels heat rush through him.

"Your name!" He blurts. His frame buzzes with tension, her hands resting against his arse.

She smiles at him. “Would you like my real name or my nickname?”

It doesn't matter, shouldn't matter that he knows what her name is. She is an escort whom he has paid for and she will continue to touch him in far more intimate places than his arse even if he doesn’t know her name. Perhaps it’s better if he doesn’t - wasn't he going to send her away?

“Your real one.” he says.

She stops torturing him, pulling back her body from his and he wants to pull her back to him, grind his hips into hers, bite and suck and kiss her neck until she moans and begs for him to take her. That wouldn't happen of course. He fights it.

“Sansa” she says, and he knows she’s speaking the truth. The name rings a bell, but he can’t quite place it. He wouldn’t know someone called Sansa who was an escort - he must be thinking of someone else. After all, there must be more than one girl in Westeros who is called Sansa.

Sansa reaches up to start undoing his shirt when the cold sting of reality strikes him. Gods, he’s almost as bad as Robert, paying for sex. Obviously she’s clearly younger than him, and only doing this because she’s in need of the money and he was going to send her away. This is such a bad idea.

“No. Stop.”

She seems surprised, and then sad as he steps away and her hands fall loosely at her sides. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Stannis responds immediately but as she smiles and tries to come closer he takes a step back. “This was a mistake. Your services are no longer needed—” Her eyes go wide and he thinks he can see some hurt there too -- probably thinking he doesn’t find her attractive. Very vain. Also, very wrong.

She looks sad and her voice becomes flat and disappointed. “If there’s someone else at the agency you would prefer then I can leave and tell them to send someone else.”

“No.”

Her face scrunches a little and she seems to pick herself up. “You won’t get a refund.”

She folds her arms over her chest, pressing her breasts together - he can see a hint of cleavage through her shirt and…“I am aware.”

They stand there awkwardly until she huffs, kicks off her heels and slinks into the bedroom leaving her coat and bag behind.

“What are you doing--” Stannis certainly did not give her permission to go in there. She should be leaving already not walking further into the apartment!

He finds her sitting on the bed, picking pins from her hair and tossing them onto the bedside table as she pulls them out. “So…” she says, “Did you get fed up of waiting and take yourself in hand before I got here, or do you simply not like what you see? I can assure you I’ve never had any complaints.” He’s about to reply with a witty remark about being vain when he’s sidetracked by the fall of auburn waves as the final pin is removed from her hair, releasing the trapped strands to fall over her shoulders and down her back. It looks soft. He wants to touch it. She raises one eyebrow and the corner of her lips tilts upward in what he thinks is a smug smile. “I know you like my hair. It was in your file.”

Her words distract him from sending her away. “My file?”

She seems totally unconcerned now, so different from the hurt he had seen only a moment ago. “Hmm, I shouldn’t have said that.” She stands again, a little shorter now her heels have been removed, and he can’t quite scowl at her as she tosses her head and her hair shimmers in the dim light from the lamps around the room. “But yes. Your file. When you call, the agency notes down your preferences. Your likes. Your dislikes.” her voice lowers and she steps closer, she doesn’t touch him this time but as she speaks and her clear blue eyes switch from looking up at his eyes, to down to his lips, and back again. “Then, the girls who fit the preferences take a look at the file and they say whether they want to meet the client or not.”

“And you did.”

“I did.”

She steps back and her eyes are like blue fire. There’s the beginnings of a sultry smile on her face and he can’t help but watch, transfixed as she slowly begins undoing the buttons on her shirt...then the zip at the back of her skirt until one hangs open and the other slips to the floor in a whisper of fabric. He’s meant to be sending her away isn’t he - she’s only here for the money, not because she actually wants to be…but she’d just said she’d chosen his file…

 _You’re acting like Robert,_ a little voice in the back of his mind tells him.

 _I’m not._ He thinks back. _Robert would have jumped her as soon as she got in the door._

_And yet you’re thinking about her right now. How is waiting to jump her any better?_

“And are you sure I cannot convince you to join me?” she asks. "Or do you really want me to leave?"

His mouth opens to reply ‘no’ but her shirt slips from her shoulders and all he can see is smooth pale skin and the darker shade of her nipples through the lacy blue fabric of her bra.

_I gave her a choice._

_Not much of a choice, she doesn’t want you really, just the money._

_Then why hasn’t she left. She said there was no refunds._

“Take your time,” she says with a sigh, “I’ll just be getting warmed up…”

Her hands slide down her sides and she turns, hips swaying as she goes back to the bed and lays down on it.

The voice is silenced and he can’t move a single muscle as she trails her hands down her sides, one pausing to hold and gently squeeze a breast while the other trails slowly down her ribs, across her stomach to toy with the lacy band of her underwear.

Her eyes close in pleasure and she sighs as her hand slips underneath the band, stroking the dark red curls between her legs. 

He can't even take a breath in.

She turns her head ever-so-slowly to look at him and her lips part slightly in a soft moan. His eyes flick down to her hand again, the wrist moving in slow little circles and by all the gods she's touching herself and looking at him with so much want that he heaves in a startled breath. Her eyes are half lidded and burning into his as her fingers slip through her folds, humming, cheeks turning pink and lips parting in a soft moan as one of her legs bends on the bed, eyes almost closing as her pleasure builds steadily.

“I want you, Stannis, please…”

No one has ever said that to him. No one has ever said his name like that. She is beautiful laying on his bed, red hair spread across his pillows, hand between her legs and _wanting_ him. Her words tear through whatever restraint was holding him in place, and sends what little blood remained in his brain straight down south, finally bringing attention to his aching length. 

Stannis’ brain seems to disconnect and the words “ _fuck it_ ” slip out before he has a chance to stop them. He moves without thinking toward her, yanking on his shirt and trousers, his shoes and socks and he makes a trail toward her with his clothes. He hears her bell like laugh in his rush to strip, but he finds he doesn't mind because she opens her arms to him and pulls him tightly to her when he climbs on the bed, kissing along his neck and his jaw before pulling back a little to look at him. Her eyes are sparkling and there’s a smile on her face that makes him think that _he_ is the treat when really it should be the other way around.

She is far too tempting to resist and when she brings his lips down to hers in a kiss that makes him grind his hips into hers, he wonders why he should have bothered to resist at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in need of some smut and thought you might appreciate an update to this fic, unfortunately it's not at the smut yet because it would have been far too long, but next chapter I swear!


	4. Red Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nsfw. seriously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pure smut. Nsfw. Seriously.

If he  _ truly _ wanted her to leave she would have done so, but when she heard his gasp and felt his need pressing up against her when she had first arrived she knew he wanted her. The man was wound more tightly than a toy soldier and just needed a little bit of a push to let go.

But when he let go…

It was clear he was eager, his blue eyes scorching and briefs tented as he looked at her, making it quite clear that he wanted to dive right in. But what if he thought one round with her was enough? Well, he wouldn’t if Sansa got her way, and while he might think he needed her now, he would be desperate for her afterwards. She really wanted him to  _ like _ her and if the sex was good then perhaps he’d be open to a date?

_ Getting ahead of yourself there, Sansa,  _ she thought with amusement as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down firmly to rest his full weight on top of her. He’s not expecting it, clearly a little surprised at her strength and Sansa ends up with his face buried (rather pleasantly) in her cleavage. She giggles a little, the feeling of his stubble against the soft skin there had tickled, and seeing his face turn red as he quickly tries to straighten up and rest his weight on his elbows.

Sansa tries again, though this time she’s a little more careful and Stannis a little more wary.

“Please?” There’s far too much room between their bodies and she wants to feel every inch of skin touching hers.

“I’ll crush you.” He says, and while it’s rather sweet, right at this moment she wants to be ‘crushed’.

“I’m stronger than I look.” She replies with a wink, but instead of waiting for an answer, Sansa’s hands slip between them and grasp his hips to pull him down just as she arches her back grinding up against him. 

The look on his face is pained and she can hear the grinding of his teeth as she looks at Stannis hotly, sighing as she feels the bulge in his briefs rub against her damp underwear.

“Tell me if I do something you don’t like.” she whispers, blowing into his ear and laughing softly when he shivers. 

Keeping her eyes open and on his as she kisses him, gently pulling on the top and then his bottom lip, letting out a pleased sigh when he hesitantly responds. It doesn’t seem like he’s done much kissing before if his hesitancy is much to go on though that could be nerves of being with a new partner. If it is, Sansa hopes she’ll cure him of it before the night is up. 

They kiss slowly for a while and she’s thoroughly enjoying herself running her hands up and down his arms and through his hair, and rocking her hips up against his which he, hesitantly at first but then with a firmer pressure, grinds back against her. 

Sansa breaks before he does, the fact that she’s making out with Stannis Baratheon and grinding up against him is something that happened only in her dreams, and it’s almost too good to be true.

The thought of him inside her makes her moan loudly and Stannis jerks back, alarmed. 

“Pants off now, I need you so much!”

Stannis sits back, face flushed and reaches down to the waistband, only to freeze as Sansa hurriedly snaps the back of her bra and tosses it over the bed and reaches down to wiggle out of her pants. 

Through the haze of building arousal clouding her mind she wonders how much longer it would have taken for Stannis to snap and take control instead. An experiment for another time.

*****

Stannis’ mouth has gone dry and his brain seems to have stopped. She’s dripping wet and her folds glisten with moisture. Her pale perfect skin is flushed and her eyes are half lidded and filled with desire as she looks at him. There’s a rushing in his ears and he can barely hear her over it.

“I want you so much—off with those pants sir.” she laughs breathlessly at his expression (he must look gormless) and nudges him to kneel so she can tug his pants down his thighs. The moment his cock is free from his pants she gasps. It’s leaking and an angry red, probably wanting to know why they haven’t gotten on with it yet. The escort…no,  _ Sansa _ looks delighted and moans again, her hand wrapping around his shaft before he can attempt to formulate a thought and then it’s his turn to gasp. 

Sansa goes up on her knees, grinning, pupils so big they’ve obscured all the colour of her eyes, and wraps one arm around his neck and kisses him hard, pushing her tongue into his mouth and moaning as her hand tightens on his cock and begins to stroke him with the perfect pace and pressure. 

Her desire is plain and simple, exciting in its frankness and he wonders how it is this woman came to be here tonight. He can’t question the truth of her desire when her skin is burning up beneath his hands and her eyes are half lidded with pleasure but had she truly chosen his file out of her want to be here, or had she been the least reluctant to meet him—

His thoughts become static noise as he feels his release build and his balls give a desperate ache, needing her to go faster. He sits back on his heels and Sansa straddles his lap moving up to kiss him again, nipping and kissing him with a passion he can’t recall experiencing before. He breathes heavily into her mouth, his heart beating fiercely in his chest as he responds with everything he has.

Sansa breaks away and attempts to tease him, giving him a devilish look before slowing the rhythm of her strokes.

“Faster.” he growls and pulls her toward him, her breasts pressing tightly against his chest while her hand moves over his cock, trapped between his chest and her stomach. She giggles and goes slower still and it’s a tortuous drag up and down his length — he puts his hand over hers, squeezes the way he likes and moves it faster.

Sansa says nothing aside from sharp little pants, the sound in time with the movements of their hands. Her hips begin to rock back and forth on his thigh, her other hand guiding his other toward her centre boldly and she cries out when he finds the small bundle of nerves at the top and rubs. She moves her hand away to grab the hair at the back of his neck, pulling lightly and then with more force as his thumb rubs circles into her and his fingers seek out her entrance. 

Panting and foreheads now pressed together as their pleasure builds Sansa mimics his movements, squeezing and releasing her hand in bursts as he moves her hand over him. Their grip is slicked by the come that’s leaking from the tip of his cock and sweat gathers on his neck, his mouth open slightly in a pant and he can’t take his eyes off hers.

Sansa calls out her need and Stannis does his best to please her, his thumb still rubbing circles while the fingers inside her seek out the patch that would make her finish quickly…

“Oh Gods. Come, Stannis, please I need, oh—“

The pressure that had been bordering on pain, bursts in a blinding light behind his eyes as his sack draws up and he comes, his seed coating their bodies. She keeps their hands moving through his orgasm even as his legs spasm and he feels her walls fluttering around his fingers, her own release coating his hand as she sinks into him, head on his shoulder and body boneless. His chest heaves with uneven breaths as he comes down from his high and they sit like that until Stannis begins to lose the feeling in his legs.

He stretches them out, groaning as pins and needles prick the backs of his knees and withdraws his hand from between her legs. Sansa protests quietly and begins trailing kisses from his neck to his ear where she sighs his name in a voice that is full of a heady satisfaction.

He puts a hand on her shoulder to move her back so he can get a look at her face. 

She is relaxed, sloe eyed and smiling…

“Good?” she asks innocently as though she isn’t perfectly aware of how he feels - the lazy smugness that creeps into her face afterward if all too obvious. He might have believed her question innocent if not for the heated glint in her eyes and his seed sticky between them.

Stannis only hums in response, and he would have moved away if it wasn’t for the way Sansa was still straddling his lap.

“Shower?”

A good idea, though he wonders whether after his turn in the bathroom he will emerge only to find her gone. 

He is glad to be proven wrong in all manner of ways when she moves gracefully off the bed and grabs his hand to pull him in the direction of the en-suite. He follows on shaky legs, barely able to take his eyes off the sway of her hips. Normally he wouldn’t indulge himself this way— _ looking _ —to make sure that no mixed signals were given. Often indulgence led to misunderstandings and hurt feelings and some rarely wanted more than a quick tumble. 

He would know.

*****

Stannis had gone to the glass enclosure at the far wall - big enough for three people and with a shower head that poured water like rain from the panel above it. However, instead of joining him, Sansa had gone to the bath. 

She had lingered, still naked, as she turned on the taps making sure it was the right temperature before she found and poured a few of the lovely (and expensive) scented oils into the water. 

She retreated from the room only once to retrieve a hairband with which she slowly put up her hair with, well aware of the way Stannis’ eyes followed her movements. 

_ Red hair.  _ Sansa thought smugly.  _ Who knew? _

If Sansa was on her own she wouldn’t have hesitated getting in, but since she had company, and company she would rather like to see more of, she put on a show. 

When the bath was ready, quickly filling up with the four huge taps pouring hot water into the enormous tub, Sansa dipped a toe in to test it, not at all surprised to find it was the perfect temperature. She lowered herself to the lip of the tub - perhaps large enough to hold at least eight people - letting her legs sink into the hot water. It wasn’t part of the show, but a genuine reaction when she let out the (frankly explicit) moan as she sunk into the hot water up to her neck. It did wonders to soothe away the tension in her body and for several minutes was completely oblivious to anything other than the pleasure of a hot bath.

Stannis was not a man to be ignored however, and after the initial pleasure died down to a low hum, Sansa’s awareness of Stannis’ heated stare was once again at the forefront of her mind. The show began again, though this time Sansa hoped it would end with something more satisfying than his hands, as lovely as they were.

Sansa could feel Stannis’ stare as she slowly sat up, her breasts sitting just above the waterline, and soaped up a soft cloth and began to wash. She made sure to linger over her neck and breasts, and then, as she leant back in the tub with a contented hum she let the washcloth and her hand drift beneath the water. 

She could have watched him through her lashes or from the corner of her eye to see if he was affected by her display but Sansa wanted to be sure that her looks could not be misinterpreted. 

She opened her eyes and stared boldly at him, her lips apart just the barest amount releasing soft breaths as her hand moved lower to reach between her thighs. 

He was affected, and to see  _ how _ affected he was at the sight of her made Sansa’s inner self purr in self-satisfaction. He  _ wanted  _ her! The evidence was right in front of her. 

Through the glass panels she could see the bar of soap forgotten in his hand, the suds he’d created washed away in the midst of his distraction and his length harden as he watched her.

The bath had been a fantastic idea.

“Give me a hand, Stannis?” she purred, “I can’t quite reach my back…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well Happy New Year!  
> Starting off in the best way possible - with smut. Hope you like :) There is more plot stuff going to happen eventually ;D


	5. A Tricky Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tommy who was kind enough to look this chapter over for me yesterday :)

She knelt in front of him, head turned to the side as she looked over her shoulder, eyes hot and mouth open, seemingly unable to close it as she gasped in time with his thrusts.

Stannis was sure he had never felt such perfect bliss in his life, cock buried deep in the tight sleeve of the woman beneath him, who seemed to love each stroke. She was being paid but…one engagement would have been enough and they’d been at it for most of the night.

The gasps and moans she made when he was inside her sounded far too real to be an act. He’d been asleep until she’d woken him with her hand around his cock, kissing his neck and sucking bruises into his collarbone. Her desire was evident in her fluttering walls, flushed skin and gasping breaths. It made him feel alive — more virile and capable of rising to the occasion than he had even in his teen years when the slightest thing had set him off and running for the shower.

“You feel so good.” She moaned and he almost choked when he felt her clench down around him, her inner muscles feeling like hot steel around his cock.

 _You feel good too,_ he wanted to say, but his mouth and his brain had seemed to disconnect and all he could utter were grunts and huffs as he thrust against her arse, cheeks bouncing with every slap of flesh. The sound of his cock inside her made his whole body flush with heat, and if it wasn’t for the fact she’d brought him off with her hand just before, he would have come by now.

“A little harder, Stannis, please!”

He was trying not to hurt her because she would probably be very tender already, but he reasoned that she _must_ know what she was doing, _must_ know what she wanted, because when he thrust harder she let out a cry that shot straight to his groin. Gods he was going to come soon. If there was anything left other than powder in his balls he would be surprised. They hadn’t had so much exercise since…oh never mind. There had never been a woman who seemed to want him so ardently.

Sansa buried her head in the pillow and cried out with each thrust, her hands fisted in the sheets beneath them and back tensing as her walls fluttered around him. “I’m going to come Stannis, _so close_ , please!”

His blood felt like it was boiling in his veins, a tight coil of pleasure in his gut winding tighter and tighter as his balls drew up for release— _he needed—she needed_ —one hand left her hip to press against her clit. It was joined a second later by hers, guiding his fingers to rub in tight little circles. She keened, tightening around him so much it felt like she was choking his cock.

Stannis groaned head bent forward into her shoulder and back hunched over hers, trying to thrust harder and keep his rhythm, making the pleasure last and last…and then he was coming in thick pulses that made his back stiffen and hips stutter. He felt sweat prickling on his neck, his hair, his chest and then trickle down his back to gather at the base of his spine.

“ _Oh_ ,” Sansa was muttering into the pillow, her cunt still clenching and shivering around him as her legs wobbled. Her body sagged, clearly ready to collapse into the mattress. “Oh, that was…”

Stannis panted into her shoulder, trying to catch his breath, and pressed a sloppy kiss to her skin. It seemed all his energy had left him, and before he could collapse on top of her he pulled out with a wet sound and flopped to the other side of the bed, eyes slowly closing, feeling the weight of his release hang over him like a thick blanket.

Gods. That had been…the words fantastic and brilliant and amazing seemed to fall short of describing how he felt right now.

It took a colossal amount of effort to turn his head and look at her.

Sansa lay on her front, her head turned toward him, eyes closed and mouth slightly open, letting out quick breaths to calm down as she twitched in the aftermath. A sheen of sweat covered her skin and the air was filled with the scent of their arousal.

She looked even better like this, he thought. Hopefully, she wouldn’t think too harshly of his own appearance. He probably looked a mess and he wouldn’t be surprised if his voice was rougher than usual — she’d wrung each and every sound from him with startling accuracy and some he didn’t even know he was capable of making. He might have been embarrassed about the noise he’d made earlier when she’d pressed a finger against his arse if she hadn’t moaned around his jerking cock and swallowed his seed as he came. She had licked her lips afterward and told him he was _delicious_. He’d felt hot all over and was glad that he had already been flushed to hide the blush that surely rose in his cheeks.

As though feeling his eyes on her she opened sleepy eyes to look at him. With her tangled hair just beginning to curl over her shoulders and her red lips darker from biting kisses she looked like his every fantasy come to life.

“ _Perfect_.” She said, her voice was barely above a whisper in the silence that now covered the room. “ _You_ were perfect.”

Stannis felt a surge of both pride at her words, and then, a terrible twist of something like affection begin to coil in his chest. He’d like to hear those words again but ‘ _Thank you’_ seemed like a terrible way to respond. He needed to say something, quick, before the moment slipped away.

“May I see you again?”

Silence.

Perhaps it had come out wrong…should he say it again? Stannis remained calm outside, but inside he was screaming. Yelling at himself for asking the question so openly rather than going through the agency which she might prefer. He watched her face, and grew tense as the silence stretched on. Her eyes were a little wider and he could practically see the wheels turning in her head but still she didn’t reply. He was surprised, and then hurt, and then angry at himself for being so stupid.

His expression turned sour, returning to his usual scowl as a bitter taste entered his mouth and he realised she didn’t intend to see him again. So much for perfect. He felt tension coil in his back and shoulders, all blissful release fleeing, leaving him cold. In the wake of her rejection he forced himself up and tossed back the covers.

He would take a shower, and then he’d get dressed, and then he’d ask her to leave.

*****

_May I see you again?_

The words seemed strange to her, phrased like a question. It’s not how her meetings usually end.

There’s always an expectation that she’ll see them again, that they’ll pay the same, or even double, if they liked her enough, but never has anyone asked whether she’d like to first. She could have said no to a second meeting, it certainly wasn’t forced — but it was usually done through the agency with a request, certainly not face to face and so close.

In any other circumstances, if Stannis had gone through the usual channels, Sansa would have said yes in a heartbeat even if she was no longer a part of the Silent Sisters. But this time it was different. It was the way he asked, the look on his face and how he’d made her feel that turned it into something else entirely. It almost seemed like _this_ could have happened naturally. No money or agency involved at all.

Perhaps they would have met in passing and he had given her a second glance. Or at a business function. Obviously, it would have been left to Sansa to start the conversation as he would be far too repressed to make the first move in such a public setting…

Her surprise must have shown on her face, or perhaps she had paused for too long because his open expression closes and turns pained as it is replaced with a scowl.

Stannis turns away from her on the bed and makes to leave when her brain finally kicks into gear. Gods he must think her simple.

“I’d love to!” she blurts, flushing when she realises how desperate she sounds. She wants to see him again, not drive him away though she might have already done that with how long she had paused. _What in all of Westeros had she been thinking?_

Forcing herself up on arms that still shake slightly, Sansa realises she needs to make him see that she wants him.

“I would love to see you again, Stannis,” she says as she crawls over the bed to sit on her heels behind him. She wraps her arms loosely around his neck, hoping that he’ll uncoil enough to just look at her. She also wouldn’t say no to a sleep, being wrapped in his arms sounds nice. The hot ache between her legs and the seed seeping out along with her own arousal isn’t all that nice. Perhaps a shower first. Then sleep. Or perhaps sleepy shower sex once they’d had a little kip? Gods, usually she’d be knackered and perhaps calling Podrick to take her home by now.

“Please, will you look at me?” Sansa lets out a relieved breath when he does turn to face her and she gives him a wobbly smile which is a little anxious, hoping that she hasn’t ruined everything. “You made me feel so good last night…and this morning.”

She can’t help but bite her lip to clamp down on the giggle at his look. All men puffed up like peacocks when they’re complimented on their sexual prowess though there’s still a guarded look in his eye and she wonders who on earth put that there. Or perhaps he just wasn’t used to paying for sex so he was insecure about her words being true? Well she knew the best way to sort that.

“Now I’m going to be blunt because you’ve worn me out far too well for me to be poetic.” She gave him a wink and a grin when he relaxed a bit more, relieved when he turned on the bed. She straddled him, not because they were going to fuck again, he seemed just as worn out as her, but because it was a comfortable position. Chest to chest. A perfect position for hugging and just what she fancied right now.

Sansa pushed her hair back over her shoulders, noticing how tangled it was. Gods she must look a mess.

“When I said perfect I meant it. I want to see you again. _Very much_.” Sansa couldn’t help but kiss his lips softly. The stubble on his jaw was a little scratchy against her skin, but beard burn from Stannis sounded delightful. She pulled back a little and realised he was watching her, the guarded look still in his eyes. So she kissed him again, _and_ _again_ , nipping his lips and whispering her secrets to him as she sat in his lap. She hoped that he would start to believe her, or at least be intrigued enough to take her up on her offers for the next time they met.

“…And then I want to suck your cock until you’re so sensitive you beg me to stop.” He’d moved his hands to her hips, his thumbs brushing back and forth over her skin sending goosebumps skittering over her skin. “I want to recreate every fantasy I’ve ever had. The ones where you’ve bent me over your desk at work. The ones where you’re a Lord come to ravish me in my chambers. The ones where I’m a naughty schoolgirl…or the headmistress…” she whispered the fantasies in his ear, pressing her cheek against his making sure to blow lightly every now and then to make him jump at the sensation. “You’re a hot dad wanting to talk to me about your unruly child and saying that its my fault they’re like that…but I know that discipline starts at home and you’ve been a _very naughty boy_ —“

“Enough.” Stannis groaned, releasing the tight grip on her hips. “I’m not so young that we can go again, insatiable woman.”

He moves his hands to her thighs and Sansa realises that she’s been subtly grinding herself into his lap.

Sansa gives him a cheeky grin. “Oh, I don’t think I could go again either. I fear you’re going to have to carry me down to the lobby—after the pounding you gave me I doubt I’ll be able to walk straight. I’ll be feeling you for _days._ ” Sansa presses her forehead against his, noticing the way his eyes are closed and he looks like he’s struggling to breathe. “We can pretend I’ve twisted an ankle and you’re just helping me back to my car like a gentleman and then…” Sansa trailed off and laughed as she nipped kisses down his neck and used her thumbs to gently tap and circle his nipples. She ground down more purposefully against his cock which twitched feebly against her bottom. The next moment had her squealing when he grabbed her around the waist and flipped them so he was on top, pressing her into the mattress.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked roughly into her neck. “We can get a start on those fantasies then?”

“Yes I’m—oh, not tomorrow.” With cold, sudden reality Sansa remembered that she would be returning home.

Stannis paused. “The next day then.” He said against her skin.

“I can’t.”

He looked up at her with a raised brow, still tired and rumpled and perfect and _Gods_ she wished she didn’t have to go back to Winterfell. He pulled back, his brows pulling down, “May I ask why not? You don’t have another client, do you?” The thought seemed to unsettle him.

“Oh no, nothing like that” Sansa assured him, watching his face carefully. “I’m going North to see family…moving back actually.”

“Ah.”

Sansa shrugged. “I’ve got a job there and I need to get everything set up so…I’ll be out of town for a while, but maybe, if you want to, you could call me?” She tries not to sound too hopeful, but God's, it would royally suck if anything were to mess this up now. Sansa hopes desperately that he doesn’t call the Silent Sisters again while she’s away and take a liking to another girl. She’d need to give Margery a call…

After what seems an eternity, but is in reality no more than a handful of seconds, Stannis nods and she can’t help but let out a relieved breath, relief washing through her in a pleasant wave. Impulsively she leans up and kisses him on his nose which seems to surprise and amuse him.

“Oh! Hang on—budge over and let me out a second—” Sansa wiggles out from underneath him, laughing as she ducks away from his reaching hands and roots around in the bedside cabinet for the usual notepad and pen all hotel rooms seemed to have. Including this one.

Scribbling her number down in what she hopes is a legible script Sansa kisses the blank page beneath it, pleased when there is a faint imprint of her lips. Almost disappointed that he hadn’t managed to kiss off all her lipstick, Sansa folds the paper into four and pads over to the wardrobe finding a neatly pressed suit jacket, and slips it into the breast pocket.

“My number.” She says as though it wasn’t obvious, “Just in case I forget.”

She makes sure to stretch in a very deliberate way, arms reaching up toward the ceiling, knowing that he’s looking at her breasts and how her hips sway when she walks. Sansa moves slowly back to the bed, loving the way Stannis looks rumpled and sweaty against the pillows.

“There,” she says, loving the way his eyes watch her as she climbs back onto the bed, straying from her face, down to her breasts and then to the red hair curling between her long legs.

Aware of the light beginning to appear beyond the curtains and just how little sleep they’ve had, Sansa takes her time looking, hoping that the set up in Winterfell won’t take too long so she can see him again. She hopes he can wait a week or two.

With a sigh that’s a little on the dreamy side - she’s already started building a list in her mind of how she’ll blow his socks off next time — she knows it’s best to make the most of the time they have left. It’s not every day that she gets to have her way with Stannis Baratheon, after all.

Sansa gives him a look and leans over him, her arms either side of his shoulders. “I think we need to get ready for your conference, hmm? I can scrub your back this time…”

Sansa tries desperately not to preen at the look he gives her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that it took so long to write this chapter, smut is -hard- guys! *winkwink*


	6. Time To Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been on a roll the last couple of days and it's almost Christmas break so have an early gift from me :)

Arya whinges something terrible when Sansa arrives back at her apartment. 

Having been thoroughly distracted by Stannis once again, Sansa honestly can’t say she minds. 

Stannis had made it on time to his conference (just) while Podrick had been caught in traffic on his way to pick her up. Sansa had been content to wait on a nearby bench rather than have to make her own way home as walking anywhere long distance wasn’t really on the cards. She’d also stolen a rather lovely kiss goodbye.

Sansa was just glad she didn’t reek of sex when she turned up to find Arya sulking outside her door. She’d probably just have driven home to Winterfell and left her if she knew _why_ she was late.

“You look different.” Arya said suspiciously as Sansa packed up the rest of her things, locked up her apartment, and put the boxes in the boot of Arya’s car.

“Do I?” Sansa hummed, adjusting the soft scarf around her neck. Sansa was well aware that she probably would have been snapping at her sister by now if Stannis hadn’t pleased her so well. She and Arya fought like cats and dogs and any change from that was often noticed quickly.

Arya looked at her face, squinting. “Yeah, you look…happy.”

Sansa couldn’t help but laugh as she made sure her things wouldn’t slide about and pulled back. “Gods forbid! You make it sound like a bad thing!”

The boot slammed closed and Arya moved off to the drivers seat. 

“S’not what I meant,” she grumbled when Sansa joined her and plugged in her seatbelt. “It’s just…I don’t see why you’re coming home at all if you like it here so much.”

Sansa might have stayed for Stannis had he called her a few months ago. Then if he still wanted her (of course), she probably would have told her dad to open the job up to someone else. But did Stannis even live in King’s Landing? She’d have to find out. Until then, it would mean commuting to wherever he was, or just meeting in King’s Landing as they’d done before. She had a perfectly serviceable apartment where they could see each other. Inviting him home to Winterfell wasn’t an option. She wasn’t ready to share Stannis with the world just yet. He probably wasn’t ready to share _her_. 

Sansa just shrugged and looked contentedly out the window as Arya started the car.  “I’m just happy to be coming home. Lady’s there and then of course I get to see _you,_ my favourite sister in the whole-wide-world—“

“Only sister.” Arya reminded her. She made a disgusted sound and headed for the motorway. “She’s missed you, you know. Been driving everyone crazy and pawing at the door when she hears someone coming up the drive.” 

Sansa had missed Lady. It’d been terribly lonely in her apartment without her. 

“Stop wiggling about you’re putting me off.” 

Sansa shifted a little bit, knowing she’d be feeling Stannis all day and loving each little reminder. Sansa wondered how his conference was going, then realised she missed him already. Gods she had it _bad_.  

“Stop it! Did you sit on a cactus or something?”

Sansa frowned at her sister, looking affronted. “What? No! Of course not!”

_Not a cactus, just a big dick._

Sansa bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from laughing. 

Arya flicked her eyes to her and scowled. “Just stop it, I can’t concentrate with you shifting about on the seat like that. It’s not too late to turn back. Or I can toss you out on your arse here and you can _walk_ back to your apartment.”

“Alright—alright! I’m sorry!” Sansa bit her lips and turned away, keeping silent for a good ten minutes before she realised something and turned back. “Hey—it’s only just gone half ten! You’re early!”

Arya didn’t look at her.

Sansa’s eyes went wide and then they narrowed suspiciously. “What on earth were you doing at my apartment…we’d arranged to meet for eleven—wait a second—Arya! Is that a hickey!” Sansa gasped sharply when her sister’s face turned red. “Did a certain handy-man give you that?”

“I _will_ turn this car around if you don’t shut it.” She growled. 

Best new way to wind Arya up—mention Gendry. Got it. 

“Alright, I’m shutting up, but just so you know…I’m happy for you.” Sansa turned away and looked out the passenger window so her sister wouldn’t see her smile. It’d also give her some time to cool the blush in her cheeks. Sansa would get all the details out of her later once they were back at Winterfell and if Arya refused to talk, she’d threaten to tell Robb…or mum. 

“You know,” Sansa said when they were halfway to Winterfell, “I could just keep my apartment and not rent it out…if I’m going to be visiting quite a bit.”

Sansa saw the way her sister tried to look uninterested.

Arya shrugged, but her hands were a little too tight on the steering wheel. “Sure, if that’s what you want. It’ll be expensive just to keep it and I doubt dad’s going to be paying you enough to keep two houses. You are getting one near Winterfell, right?” 

Sansa nodded thinking she’d like a nice big bed so she could sprawl out on it as she slept. Or if she could persuade Stannis to say over once they’d spent a bit more time together.

“Yeah, I need to take a look around though. I’m going house hunting later this week with dad. He’s got a better eye for DIY than I have. Until I find a place I like it’s going to be the spare room for me.”

“You know they haven’t touched it since you left—mum keeps saying she’ll decorate but every time she goes in there she just ends up rearranging your stuffed toys on the bed and leaving. She spends ages in there. It’s weird.”

Sansa just hummed along, she didn’t fancy fucking Stannis on her childhood bed with the teddy’s watching. That would be _weird_. And uncomfortable. 

_Definitely can’t stay with mum and dad for long. I might have to do the redecorating for mum though if I can’t find anywhere I like…at least I’ve got plenty of boxes spare._

Sansa spent the rest of the ride catching up with her sister and asking after Lady’s antics, mostly involving Rickon and how he refused to go to bed without her. 

If Arya noticed Sansa checking her phone more often than usual then she didn’t say anything.

*****

Stannis was…distracted. He had been since he’d left Sansa sitting on a nearby bench waiting for her ‘lift’ to arrive. For perhaps the first time in his life he had been sorely tempted to skip the conference. It felt like he should have taken her home himself rather than allow her to organise a lift back. And that kiss. 

Sansa was truly something else. She’d spent the night with him and seemed delighted at anything and everything he suggested and more than eager to impress upon him just how much she wanted to see him again. 

_“…And in the next quarter, share prices are expected to rise by…”_

As the speaker droned on up front Stannis was more than tempted to take out the piece of paper in his top pocket and look at it again. He’d already added her number to his phone so he wouldn’t loose it — that would have been a disaster. Well. He could have just called the agency again, but this, it felt far more intimate and natural. More respectable. As though he hadn’t called an escort to his hotel room and fucked her six ways from Sunday. 

He’d also been fucked into the mattress, but he wasn’t about to tell anyone that. 

The elderly balding man beside him probably would have had a heart attack. 

_Excuse me, but I spent the majority of last night and this morning fucking a stunning red-head who gives incredible blow jobs. And hand jobs. And rides like—_

He’d likely be kicked out and the news would be all the way to the Stormlands and into Robert’s ear before you could say _Blackwater_. The fact that any salacious gossip was often filtered by Renly would just make it worse.

Stannis scowled at the idea of either of his brothers finding out about Sansa. 

He should call her. Right now. 

She’d asked him to call her just before they parted ways. He could remember exactly what she said…

_“…And then you’ll hear me moan and ask me what I’m doing and I’ll tell you…that I’m touching myself and…”_

No better not. He could feel his face turning red. Perhaps he should just text her. A text was safe. Just to let her save his number.

**_This is my number._ **

**_Stannis_ **

There. Sent. Now she had his number. 

He thought of adding something more but he knew if he started typing things out about how he was thinking about their night together and how he wanted to kiss her thighs and taste her it would inevitably lead to embarrassment. Both for getting an erection in the middle of an incredibly dull conference surrounded by his peers and business competitors, and for probably sounding like some desperate, sex starved loon to the woman he very much wanted to see again. 

He looked up to find the man to his right, old-and-balding, looking at him and his phone with disapproval. Stannis was very glad he hadn’t decided to write out a longer message to Sansa. He looked at the man with a raised a brow and enough of a scowl that he quickly looked back to the stage. There really was no respect for a man’s privacy nowadays. Stannis decided he would sit somewhere else after the break. 

Unfortunately, the second he was no longer under scrutiny, Stannis felt his phone buzz in his hand.

More than old-and-balding looked at him then. Stannis refused to look away first, glaring at them until they turned back. The buzz was low enough that it hadn’t disrupted the main speaker, but he probably should put it on silent just in case…

**_I miss you already_ **

**_Sansa x_ **

A small part of him that had panicked over whether she had given him the wrong number settled and he allowed himself a small twitch of the lips. She’d even put a kiss in there.

_“…We expect this new technology to have a great impact and…”_

Was she expecting a reply? 

Before he knew it Stannis had silenced his phone —and the buttons— and typed out a response.

**_I am assuming you got home safely?_ **

**_Yes thanks._** There was a yellow grinning face next to it. **_My sister came to pick me up but travelling’s so dull, I’d much rather be doing something else._**

A second text followed immediately after.

**_Or someone else. x_ **

Gods he shouldn’t have started this until he was alone. A few words and she had turned his thoughts completely inappropriate. He should stop right now. Before she took this any further and he had a situation on his hands. 

 ** _I know the feeling_** , he typed. 

He should add something else — make it more acceptable to be writing in the middle of a conference he was meant to be paying attention to. Even if it had so far not actually yielded any new information. This is why Robert came to these things instead of him and he always got along better with this idiots anyhow.

**_I regret to say this conference is very dull._ **

**_Are there a lot of people there? x_ **

Far too many for his tastes. 

**_It’s packed. I reserved seats toward the front yet they gave them to someone from Tyrell. I’m stuck next to an attendee who seems to have spent the last ten years in a smoking shelter and has a problem with personal privacy._ **

**_So you’re terribly bored then? x_ **

**_Unfortunately, I should have sent someone in my stead though I do not regret it after last night._ **

**_Me either. Any way you could skip out and leave early? x_ **

**_It’s been paid for and my train is not until six._ **

**_I feel for you. Did you want me to make it more interesting? x_ **

There was another one of those yellow faces, though this one was winking. A part of him knew what she meant by sending it, and that he shouldn’t really play along, but he was curious…

**_And how would you do that?_ **

Instead of a text message she sent him a picture.

As soon as he saw it Stannis immediately locked his phone and put it into his trouser pocket where he couldn’t stare at it. 

That was not appropriate at all. 

_*****_

“What are you smirking at?” Arya muttered as they headed for Winter Town.

Sansa looked up from her phone and smiled, they were almost home. “Oh nothing. Just a funny picture”

The picture wasn’t funny at all, in fact, it was rather hot. Sansa had taken it when she’d gone to get dressed this morning (without stannis trying to take her clothes off again) and had snapped a quick picture in the bathroom. She’d looked straight into the lens instead of away and turned her bedroom eyes on full smoulder, lightly parted her kiss swollen lips and a brushed her tangled hair aside to reveal the hickey he’d left there. 

She wished she could have seen the look on Stannis’ face when he saw it.


	7. Winterfell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's first week back at Winterfell isn't quite as relaxing as she'd hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to Eternalsummer who took a look at this chapter for me :)

Having lived on her own for so long, Sansa had forgotten the chaos of living with her parents and siblings. Why was everything so loud? And complicated? And annoying? Did Arya have to be such a grumpy bitch all the time? Did Bran have to get up in the middle of the night to use the loo every night? Did Rickon have to wake up at the crack of dawn and yell that he was hungry? Surely living at home hadn’t felt this smothering before?

Unfortunately, dealing with the terrible moods, habits and noise level of her family, was not the only downside of returning to the North. Avoiding nosy neighbours and family friends who stopped by to say ‘Hello!’ and welcome her back to Winterfell was both repetitive and draining. Everyone had been quick to suggest that she’d be looking for someone to settle down with soon, and of course, had Sansa met their son? Their cousin? Their brother? In response, she would smile, chat a little, before making her excuses. Usually, it was ‘ _ oh I have to walk Lady, she’ll be driving everyone mad if I don’t go’ _ or, her favourite, ‘ _ I have to look after Rickon today and my parents are waiting for me to get back’  _ ending with ‘ _ it’s been good to see you’ _ and ‘ _ we’ll have to set something up!’ _ which she never had any intention of doing.

Sansa often wondered whether there was a neon sign flashing above her head saying ‘womb--open for business!’ because if there was, she couldn’t see it. 

With the North being such a close-knit community, word would get around pretty fast if she lost it and told everyone to just fuck off. It wouldn’t be good for business either as some of the nosy buggers were her father’s business associates.

It seemed work was little better, having to wait on files from all departments before she could truly sink her teeth into the task ahead, Sansa spent most of the time decorating her new office, with frequent trips to Wintertown when she ‘needed something’. Honestly, the one thing that was keeping her sane amongst the madness was texting Stannis. 

Their playful messages had continued and now they whinged enthusiastically about annoying idiots and those who were snooping where they had no right to snoop. Stannis had plenty of hilarious ammunition that left Sansa with cramping fingers and a bellyache, before sharing a few of her own observations that Stannis appreciated. Though sometimes it was difficult to tell as he never used emojis, slang, or anything else that wasn’t strictly grammatically correct. 

When Sansa did get a spare minute to herself, aside from texting Stannis, she was often holed up in her room trying to unpack the boxes that (in places) were stacked almost floor to ceiling. It was kind of terrifying that she had this much stuff in her small flat. Then she’d remember that she had even more of it in storage, and would wince. She was not looking forward to sorting through it all when she found a new place.

Unfortunately progress was slow and Sansa could only describe House Hunting as an  _ experience _ . The estate agents had taken one look at her, considered her budget, DIY-savvy parents, and seemed to decide that sending her to sprawling run down houses would be best considering her ‘position’. Pretty, unattached, and childless -- not that anyone believed she’d stay that way for long.

The current favourite, and it would have been hers too if she were looking for a family home, was a three-storey Victorian delight with beautiful bay windows which they viewed on Saturday. However, it needed complete rewiring, the plumbing was a shambles and some of the floorboards had begun to rot. 

“It’s a good investment, Sansa.” her dad said as he sized up the rooms. “They’re asking a pittance, really…” he muttered, as though he couldn’t see why. 

Sansa could -- _ it was a mess- _ \- but she hid her thoughts behind an interested expression and nodded along when her mother cooed that the smaller room next door would look lovely in pale blue. 

“It’s small enough to be made into an en-suite or a walk-in-wardrobe,” Sansa said when she poked her head around the doorframe. “Dad, what do you think about taking this wall out? It’s not load bearing is it?” Ned shook his head, knocking on the wall in question and gave her a thumbs up as with a pencil in his mouth, and notepad in the other, he scribbled down notes from the agent who was following them about.

“Well I think this room would make a lovely nursery, don’t you, Sansa?”

Sansa tried to ignore her mother’s hopeful look and hummed instead, “Or a study. There’s plenty of light.”

_ She didn’t want kids. Surely they’d taken the hint by now? _

As Sansa moved cautiously about the rest of the house, her parents pointing out the positives and muttering how best to fix this or that, Sansa clamped her jaw shut and bit her lips to keep herself from grimacing. 

There were positives, just not enough for Sansa to seriously consider it as an option for her own home. It was beautiful, but there was so much work to do and after a long day at work what she really wanted was to come home to something warm, and cosy, and finished. She did not want to head into Wintertown to look at varnish and carpets and coving.

Later, after exchanging details with the agent and receiving more papers and floorplans they bundled back into the car and made the short journey back to Winterfell. They arrived home to Lady’s enthusiastic welcome and settled around the kitchen table with cups of tea and the papers they’d collected from the agent.

Her parents seemed so enthusiastic about the potential of the place that Sansa started to wonder whether she was missing something. 

“I’ve got enough saved up to get something newer,” Sansa said cautiously when they asked for her opinion, looking rather optimistic about her reaction. “It’s a lot of work and I’m not sure I’ll have the time…”

“Don’t be silly, darling!” Catelyn smiled reassuringly, patting Sansa’s hand. “You did so well to pay off your student debt on your own that we’re going to help you buy your first house -- and don’t argue! Robb and Jon have had their money already so it’s only fair.”

Horrible visions of the large house falling down around her ears made her chest tighten and she gave them an apologetic look. “It’s fine mum, and definitely too big for just me anyway...”

Catelyn huffed. “You’re just as proud as your father when it comes to asking for help.” she looked fondly at her husband who had put on his glasses to look over the papers. “Besides, it’s a project and they’re so much fun--I remember when we started converting the old wing at Winterfell, it was hard work but so worth it in the end.”

Sansa remembered it too. Late nights and early starts, the constant banging and sounds of drills, and how her parents used to emerge from the old rooms covered in dust and flecks of paint. She honestly couldn’t see the appeal.

Sansa knew that if she pushed the idea of getting somewhere on her own, smaller and newer and without any help, would likely offend her mother. Perhaps she could look into getting a few quotes and find someone to fix it up while she was at work? She’d still have to pick out paint and such but she wouldn’t have to do any labour which would be nice-- she could even stay at Winterfell so she wouldn’t have to go without electricity or hot water...the only downsides of that plan was that she would have to stay with her parents for a longer stretch  _ and  _ it would be expensive. If she hired a builder to fix everything in the house, her parents would worry. It was likely they’d demand to see statements and costs and receipts, and if she covered it up, her mother would probably make a ‘surprise visit’ and snoop thinking she was maxing out her credit cards and taking high-interest loans…

Then, of course, they’d want to know where she’d got all the money from...it was unlikely that they’d believe her old boss from ‘Asshai’ would really pay so much to a recent graduate.

Sansa sipped her tea as her parents pulled out their accounts, calculator and address book. She’d meant to try and unpack a few more boxes but the tight feeling in her chest demanded all her focus and the beginnings of a headache began to pulse at the base of her neck. After enduring more than her fair share of  _ everything _ this week, she was feeling a little smothered.

“Do you think we should get Mormont in to do the electrics?” her dad said, flipping through the worn address book.

_ Air. She needed air. _

“Are you alright?” her dad said shooting her a look over the top of his glasses. “You look a little pale.”

Sansa flashed them a smile that was far too cheery and stood. “I’m fine, just going to take Lady for a walk before it gets dark.” She tossed the dregs of her tea in the sink and headed for the hall. 

As soon as the click of the cupboard sounded, Lady was at her side, spinning in excited circles when Sansa tried to loop the lead over her head. Then, moving quickly so no one could suggest they tag along, she was out the door.

*****

“You promised me details, Sansa! How was I going to find out whether or not Stannis had put you in the hospital with a bad case of bow-legs?”

“Gods, you’re awful,” Sansa said fondly. “I’m sorry it’s not just a call to catch you up on the gossip, but everything’s been really busy and I desperately need your advice.”

Margery huffed. “Of course, it couldn’t just be for the fact that you missed me, could it?” 

Sansa ignored her feigned hurt. She knew that her friend loved nothing more than being needed. “I miss you terribly.” she said, “but I still need that advice.”

Her friend hummed on the other end of the phone but Sansa knew it was all for show. Margery was clearly desperate to know as not a moment later she demanded, “Spill!”

“Okay...so. Stannis and I have been texting.” Sansa began, putting her thoughts into words was easier than she expected, and before she knew it everything came spilling out, “...but he’s made no mention of meeting up again and I’m getting a bit worried. Usually, they call in a couple of days but it’s been a week, Marg. He hasn’t called the agency again, has he? I don’t want someone else to nab just because they’re closer and I’m all the way in the North--”

“He hasn’t, don’t worry -- and I wouldn’t let any of the girls get him or his file. As far as we’re all concerned, he’s yours. You just need to stay calm — use those bedroom eyes and long legs of yours and you’ll have him eating out of the palm of your hand in no time.”

“I’d rather he just eat me out,” Sansa grumbled, managing a smile when she heard Margery’s delighted laugh on the other end.

“Oh I’m sure he’ll get to that soon enough — you have nothing to worry about, I’m sure he’s rather desperate for you already. Besides, I thought you weren’t going to be a Silent Sister anymore?”

“I’m not, but Stannis is a special case. You’ve removed my papers, haven’t you?”

“Well…”

“Margery!”

“You’re still on file, but not ‘active’ unless it’s for any future transactions with Stannis. Let me know when it gets serious and I’ll have them burnt.” The words were spoken cheerily and Sansa felt a little twist in her belly. She liked Stannis, he took direction well and was very willing, but whether he wanted more…

_ May I see you again? _

Well, there was some hope. 

Sansa wandered through the woods, Lady trotting along happily in front sniffing various trees and bushes while Sansa listened to Margery’s chatter.  

“Has he sent you any pictures yet?” 

Sansa could almost hear the smile. Margery had never met Stannis, but she knew Renly, who was currently in  _ mutual infatuation _ with her brother Loras, and subsequently told each other everything. The verdict, according to Loras and Renly, was that Stannis worked far too much and needed to loosen up. 

_ What a surprise.  _

Unfortunately, that was the nicest thing they’d said about him, though Margery had informed Sansa that it was generally because Stannis didn’t drink, smoke, or ‘do anything fun’ and that his voice was enough to send them to sleep. 

Sansa confirmed that he did have a lovely voice, but she knew it wouldn’t send her to sleep.

“I’m not going to push him—I don’t think he’d give me one in any case. He’s rather shy, I think, and this thing we have is very new.”

“It’s been a week, right?” Margery gave a sigh and her voice sounded disappointed. “I wish I’d get a shy one once in a while -- all of mine are perfectly happy to whip it out and give me a look. It’s not the best way to wake up in the morning and find there’s another one eyed snake saved in my messages.” 

Sansa snorted and carried on walking, stepping neatly over one of the many concealed rabbit holes that dotted the woods around Winterfell. 

“I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind one like that from Stannis - I mean it’s quite…nice looking I suppose?”

“Oh, so he’s got a pretty dick too?”

“As far as dicks go...I mean they aren’t really very pretty, are they?”

“I agree with you there--but don’t tell me! It’s huge and you’re pretty sure no one else will compare?”

“Hardly, Marg,” Sansa huffed, “it’s average and I’ve told you it’s not the size that matters, it’s—“

“Whether they know what to do with it that counts. I  _ know _ !”

There’s a silence long enough after that for Sansa to wonder whether her signal had failed and she’d gone into some sort of grey area (she hadn’t). She decided they should talk about something other than Stannis Baratheon. She’d be a poor friend if she only ever contacted Margery when she wanted something.

“So…what did you think of the pictures I sent you?” 

It’s been a week since she left King’s Landing, but honestly, it feels much longer and she misses Margery terribly.

“I think the pink set is nice, but you should definitely take the green set and the black and gold ones the next time you meet. The white would be good for a virgin fantasy if he’s got one, or your wedding—“

Sansa couldn’t help it, she laughed. 

“No—NO! The house! The one with four bedrooms and damp in the loo!”

Margery bounces back easily “Oh! Well, I wouldn’t take it. Sansa, you’re twenty-five not forty-five and you have no kids to speak of. Unless you’re planning on asking Stannis to move in with you and start on a football team right this second, I can’t see why you’d need such a big place? Your parents don’t know about Stannis, do they?”

“Of course not--I can’t imagine many parents want to know anything about their daughter’s sex life!” 

Margery hummed approvingly. “Good call. Now, the house...sure, the place is nice and big for a family but it looks like a lot of work. If I were you I’d want somewhere I could walk in, throw my stuff down and relax. You don’t need the added stress of living on a building site — and think of the dust!”

“So that’s a no, then?” Sansa cut in, amused, just in case Margery decided to turn it into a rant. “Only you’re the first person to say that. Everyone else thinks I should go for it.”

“My answer is a very strong  _ no _ .”

Sansa sighed, a part of her felt relieved. “Well thanks for being honest with me. All I get is,  _ look at the potential Sansa, so much space Sansa, wouldn’t this room look lovely in pale blue Sansa? _ ” 

“Oh dear.” Margery giggled, “sounds like they’re gunning for grandchildren.”

“That’s mum for you,” Sansa grumbled. “I don’t want kids. I’m twenty-five, for God's sake!”

“I know how you feel. Dad’s always saying that I should make a good ‘connection’ and secure the family line. I mean, who says that? We’re not living in the 1800s!“

“Exactly!” Sansa agreed loudly making Lady look up from digging with interest, her muzzle covered in muck. “Gods, I miss you, Marg!”

“I miss having you in King’s Landing! It’s not going to be the same without you. Are you sure you can’t work remotely?” she whined.

Usually, when they got together there’d be a tub of lemon sorbet, two spoons, and several terrible films that would go mostly ignored as they put the world to rights through sarcasm and bitching. It just wasn’t the same over the phone. 

“Afraid not. They need someone in-house and I've put dad off for four years already.” 

Margery gave a disappointed sigh. 

“Well, I think you should do what makes you happy -- it’s obvious this is stressing you out. Go home, lock your door, and take some time for yourself. Gods, if I had to move back in with Grandmother I think I’d just die with how much she tries to manage everyone! How mum sticks her living in the annex I’ll never know.”

Sansa silently agreed. She’d met Olena Tyrell during their second summer at university and found her blunt wit and general attitude very amusing. She didn’t take any shit from those who thought her too old to still have a hand in Tyrell interests and wasn’t afraid to say her thoughts out loud. However, as much as she liked the old lady, living with her would be a nightmare.

They spoke for a bit longer, Lady happy enough to chase rabbits silly enough to race across the ground in front of her, getting steadily dirtier as they walked, 

Eventually, Sansa’s thoughts shifted back, as they always seemed to do lately, to Stannis Baratheon. 

“Come on, I can practically hear the frown on your face.”

Sansa sighed, “I know we spoke about it earlier and I’m a complete idiot for thinking it but...I’m worried that he won’t like me. I mean we had great sex and he asked to see me again rather than just stating it but—”

“Won’t…like…you?” the tone of Margery’s voice was dangerous. “You must be out of your fricking mind! How many times has he texted you in the last three days?” Margery scolded, as though speaking to a naughty child.

Sansa chewed on her lips, picking at the skin with her teeth. “Well, there’s usually one in the afternoon when he’s on a break, and then I ask him about his day so far and what he’s got to do later…so, a couple. Then he usually works until seven, has dinner, and then there’s a few more until we go to bed.”

“And you’ve sent him pictures?”

“Yes.”

“Did he ask for them?”

“No…”

“And did he like them?”

“He said he did but how can you tell with a text?”

“Then ring him! By the Gods, Sansa! I’ve never seen you so wound up over a guy - ever. If you want to keep him to scratch your itch, or even something more than that, use that brain of yours! Do a bit of roleplay, a few skype sessions or a raunchy phone call and before you know it he’ll be knocking on your door begging to take you out — or eat you out if that’s your preference.”

Sansa huffed. “If Stannis is awkward sending me pictures I don’t know how he’s going to handle phone sex.”

“You’ve done it before, right?”

“I have, but I’ve never initiated it. It’ll be so awkward if he doesn’t go for it—“

“Then get him used to it. Start him off gently and then go for gold—you can do it, I know you can!” There was the sound of jangling keys in the background. “Now look, I’ve got to go — I’ve got a hot date.”

“Oh. Anyone I know?” Sansa hummed, grateful for how easy it was to talk to her friend.

“You might” she giggled, “I’ll let you know. See you—“

“Hold on--let’s go through the plan once more before I forget. So, one, ditch the mouldy house.”

“Yes”

“Two. Relax.“

“Of course.”

“Three was...“ The slam of a car door made her jump and she stopped. 

“Three” Margery repeated above the blast of her radio, “was wrap Mr. Baratheon around your little finger and make him beg to be yours.” 

“I think I’ll just call him first, but it’s a start.” Sansa grinned, amused at the way Margery was clearly impatient to get going.

“Now I can’t talk and drive and I don’t want to keep this one waiting. He’s very promising!”

Sansa knew it was time to let her go before Marg started making threats. “Well, good luck on your date, Marg. I’ll call you in a couple of days!”

“Bye, San—I want details later! Mwah!”

“Me too!”

When Sansa hung up she felt a whole lot better about...everything. Margery was a godsend. Then, she happened to catch the time. 

She’d been gone for almost three hours. 

_ Fuck _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been absent from the tag for a while as I had a big hand in due Friday the 13th, which was a nightmare, but I'm hopeful that my work was ok! I then slept for two days and now I'm writing again! I have a little bit of a break before I have to start back working properly so I'm going to try and get as much writing done as possible (as inspiration allows) so you'll see a few more posts from me in the next two months :)


	8. Just a Little Time

Lady tracked mud all through the hallway in her excitement to greet the group of people standing there, barking excitedly when everyone started talking at once.

“What time do you call this?” Catelyn said as soon as Sansa set foot inside the door. Her parents both wore thick jackets and hats, gloved hands clutching torches. “We were just about to send a search party!”

Sansa shrugged off her coat and passed Lady’s lead off to Arya, who was mouthing along to their mother’s words with a smirk. Her sister had been on the receiving end of this talk too many times for Sansa to count, Sansa herself almost never, and Arya revelled in the turnabout.

“We thought you’d taken a wrong turn,” Ned said, his words hovering awkwardly between _reprimand_ and _concern_ , realising that they could no longer treat her as a child.

“Sorry,” Sansa said, trying to look apologetic as she hung up her coat in the cupboard. “I lost track of time, it’s so nice being out of the city and the woods are lovely this time of year.” It _was_ getting dark outside but she was twenty-five, not twelve.

Her mother wasn’t having any of it.

“We tried to call you but it was engaged—I thought something had happened!”

“I was catching up with Margery,” Sansa explained, hoping that they’d drop it. “I lost track of time.”

Arya huffed and rolled her eyes, tossing the torch on the side and yanking off her coat. “C’mon, I told you she was running her trap to some airhead friend of hers.”

“Oi!” Sansa snapped, scowling at her sister. Margery was her _best_ friend. “Just shut your mouth—”

Catelyn cut in sharply. “By the Gods, Arya, leave your sister alone! It’s only been a week and you’re already fighting like— _oh for goodness sake!”_ Sansa almost wished she’d stayed in the woods. “Wipe that dog down properly, I’ve just cleaned this house!” Her mother’s face quickly developed a scowl and Sansa felt herself tense automatically. A scowl often heralded a lecture of epic proportions. Thankfully they were saved by an excited yell that stalled any bickering.

Rickon charged into the hall clutching a towel and tossed it over Lady just as he tripped, knocking them both to the floor. Lady barked excitedly, thinking it a game, twisting around beneath it and snapping at the corners, delighting Rickon no end as he forced himself to his feet. Neither were hurt in the tumble, though Sansa was just glad Lady was not a smaller breed as she surely would have been crushed by Rickon’s enthusiasm. With a bit of quick shuffling her dad helped Rickon hold Lady still and wipe her down, using towels to dry her legs, belly and between her toes. In truth, it was mostly her dad who wiped the husky down while Rickon wrapped another towel around Lady’s head and laughed that she looked like Old Nan.

At least he wasn’t trying to ride her still.

Arya was charged with putting away the coats and torches before going to set the table, while Sansa muttered that she was going to change and quickly dashed upstairs to slip into something warmer. Fleece pyjamas were just the ticket.

They had stew for dinner, and with her mother still highly strung from Sansa’s ‘extended walk’ she didn’t think it would be a good time to tell Catelyn she planned to look for something smaller, cleaner, and newer as her first home in the North. She’d do it tomorrow. With Robb, Roslin and the boys in the house, her mother was sure to be in a better mood, as everyone knew Robb could do no wrong in her eyes.

Intending to put part two of her plan into action (relaxing) Sansa made her excuses and headed for her room. Stannis likely wouldn’t be back in his apartment until nine so she could unpack a few more boxes, and then she would be free to speak to him to her heart’s content. Quickly climbing the stairs Sansa began to feel rather excited.

She had a phone call to make!

*****

The phone call had to wait.

Unpacking was a laborious process and then finding places for everything was even harder when she couldn’t even see the majority of the space in her room. Now it was nearing ten-thirty, Sansa had been planning what she’d say to Stannis in her head when she heard Rickon protest loudly down the hall.

“No I won’t! I want LADY!”

Sansa could hear the tired tones of her father’s voice. “Rickon it’s way past your bedtime! She’ll come to bed when she’s ready if you’d just go to sleep—”

“LADY! LADY COME HERE!”

Her little brother whistled and barked and even threw in a few howls, but from the argument coming down the hall, Sansa knew that her husky had not made an appearance. The location of the absent dog was revealed when the telltale scrabble of claws and pacing paws sounded outside her door.

Sansa sighed heavily. Was it too much to ask for a little peace?

Dropping her phone on the bed Sansa hauled herself away from the box of knickknacks and quickly opened the door, slipping out before Lady could rush in. “C’mon girl, it’s bedtime,” Sansa said, ushering her determined husky down the hall toward Rickon’s room. Lady happy enough to go along with her now Sansa was present.

Could dogs get separation anxiety?

“Here we are!” Sansa said cheerily as she tried to push Lady into Rickon’s room and close the door. Sansa could see her dad look up in relief and Rickon’s face immediately brighten.

“Sorry, Sansa. Was she sleeping with you?” Her dad sent her an apologetic look. “Rickon’s become accustomed to having Lady stay with him since she got here, and he refuses to go to sleep without her.”

“No, it’s alright. I heard him. On the bed, Lady...” Unfortunately, Lady resisted with all of her husky strength, sticking firmly to Sansa’s leg and rushed to block the door whenever it looked like Sansa was going to leave.

“Lady! Cuddle!” Rickon called, patting the spot next to him.

When Lady didn’t move, and Rickon looked about to cry Sansa sighed “Look. Like this” and moved over to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

Sansa knew she was going to have trouble when Lady hopped up obediently beside her and snuggled down. Rickon offered Sansa a beaming smile.

“Thank you, Sansa.” her dad said, relieved. Rickon could be a little hellion if he didn’t want to go to bed. Unfortunately, as soon as Sansa stood up, Lady bolted off the bed to rush to the door.

Rickon sat bolt upright. “HEY!”

“She’s been out.” her dad said. “It looks like she wants to sleep in your room tonight, Sansa.”

 _No!_ Sansa thought dejectedly, she was planning on talking to Stannis tonight, and then hopefully more than talk to him. Having Lady in the room would be terribly awkward—she had this awful habit of watching and tilting her head to the side like…

“No! Lady’s sleeping with me! In my bed!” Rickon pouted. “Lady’s my dog now!”

_By the Gods._

“Rickon you can’t make Lady sleep in your room. She’s missed Sansa very much—”

Ned tried to reason with Rickon, but really, little boys at bedtime are not the sort to be reasoned with.

“Then I’ll sleep in Sansa’s room too!” Rickon yelled, and threw his covers off, climbing out of bed clutching his teddy and making for the door.

_Oh hell no._

“Right. That’s it.” Sansa snapped and everyone stilled, even her dad who was looking at her with widening eyes. Gods she just wanted some time to herself, was that so hard to understand? “Rickon, get back into bed.”

“But—”

“ _Now_.”

Her little brother looked on the verge of protesting but she sent a single look at her husky, and Lady must have known that her mistress wasn’t impressed because she dashed over and curled up at the foot of the bed.

Seeing Lady back on his own bed, Rickon returned to his place and pulled the covers up to his chin, looking warily at Sansa as though this was all some kind of trick.

“Right. No one is sleeping in my bed but me, ok? Now, I’m going to go—” Lady’s head shot up. “Apparently not...” Sansa grumbled.

So much for that phone call.

“How about I read you a story instead of dad?” She’d just have to hope that Rickon fell asleep quickly.

“Will you do the voices?” Rickon asked as though he didn’t quite believe she would.

“I will,” Sansa replied.

“Actions?”

Sansa groaned internally but agreed. She had very little choice in the matter.

“And you _promise_ to finish the story?”

“I will.”

“Okay!”

Rickon handed her a book from his bedside table, and Sansa began to read _The Children_ as her dad slipped out the door. She heard his soft laugh as the door closed when Rickon complained that she needed to do the voices _properly_.

Sansa sighed and complied, hoping that Arya didn’t think to record her this time.

 

****

 

Stannis was hunched over at his desk in his study, reading through the last of today’s reports, when his phone began to ring. It was rare that someone called him so late, and, unless it was an emergency, his employees knew not to disturb him. Still, there was a moment of annoyance before he saw the caller ID.

Stannis felt his stomach clench uncomfortably. It was Sansa. He answered it immediately.

“Hello?”

“Hey Stannis,” her voice was a breathy whisper. “It’s me.”

Stannis felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle in response. “Yes, I know,” he replied, and from the sudden silence on the other end of the phone, Stannis wondered whether she thought him rude for being so blunt. “I...hope you’re well?” Stannis grimaced.

“I’m very well thank you,” Sansa replied. “Though I have to say my day has improved markedly since you picked up the phone.”

Stannis felt his neck heat up with embarrassment. Was she _flirting?_ What is he meant to say in return? He’d always been good with words, just not that sort…

When he didn’t reply Sansa filled the sudden silence. “And you? How was your day? I mean, are you alright to talk? I know it’s kind of late…”

“Obviously,” he said roughly, pressing a hand against his stomach to try and calm the current acrobatics performance. “I wouldn’t have answered otherwise.” She gave a nervous laugh and Stannis felt the heat in his neck begin to suffuse his cheeks. Was she laughing at him? The flipping in his stomach turned to a rough sickness that threatened to bring up his late dinner of beans on toast. “What is so amusing?”

“Nothing, Stannis.” The fondness in her voice startled him.

Stannis thought that hearing her was better than texting. At least he should be able to understand her tone now. The yellow faces she used weren’t very clear at all.

“So if you’re alright to talk, tell me, what are you doing now?”

Well that was much safer ground. He could talk about work. “I’m just checking through some reports for tomorrow’s meeting.”

“It looks like you’ve got a busy week ahead of you then.”

“Very. We have delegates coming from Dorne on Wednesday to renew several contracts. They should have been done a few days ago, but I’ve been rather strapped for time.” Sansa was actually the reason he was finishing off more work at home, his thoughts kept straying to the pictures she’d sent him over the last week and everyone at the office seemed to be watching him.

“Oh.” she sounded...odd. “Well, I hope you’re not working too hard, Stannis. All work and no play makes—”

“A very dull boy. I am aware.”

He’d heard the saying more than once from his brothers and he resisted the urge to grind his teeth. He already wore a guard during the night to reduce the amount of damage. If he had to start wearing one during the day--

“I was going to say _a very stressed Stannis_ .” She laughed lowly. “It’s a shame I’m not there to help you relax really, you sound like you could do with taking your mind off work.” He could hear the suggestion in her tone and it made his heart thump hard against his chest. “I hope the pictures I sent offered you some measure of _relief?_ ” she purred, bold enough to mention them outright and not hide behind suggestion and coy words.

In truth, they had offered him quite a bit of _relief_ , as well as a measure of aching lust that was only ever temporarily satisfied by his hand. The pictures she’d sent, curling red hair brushed over pale shoulders with a tantalising view of her lingerie in various styles and colours, would cause an erection that demanded attention and refused to lie flat.

“They did.” He coughed eventually.

He thought of the text she had sent him during a meeting saying she needed his opinion. At the time he had thought it would be about the house viewing, having told him of her search for a property in the North. Then she’d sent one of those yellow faces that winked and a picture that left him flushed and distracted for the rest of the day. He was just thankful that Cressen had taken the minutes.

“That’s good.” she hummed, pleased. “I hope they gave you something to think about on your commute, too.”

Stannis pressed his palm to his chest to feel the furious beat of his heart and wondered whether the increased rate was a sign of a heart attack. He did have rather high blood pressure. “They did.” He said. “Though I’m afraid the man beside me got an eyeful.”

Sansa gasped playfully, “A nosy parker? I’m assuming you didn’t show him of your own volition?”

“Of course, a gentleman never tells—nor does he share pictures given to him in confidence.”

Sansa hummed on the other end of the phone and he realised that he had sat back in his chair. Aside from the heart palpitations and churning stomach, speaking to Sansa on the phone was rather soothing. It was _nice_ to have someone who was genuinely interested in him and his life. The fact that he’d paid for their first night together seemed irrelevant. He hadn’t paid her to text him. The pictures she’d sent had been done without any prompting nor expectation of payment. Sometimes he found himself forgetting that she was a Silent Sister at all.

“I’m glad you picked up tonight Stannis, I’ve been thinking about you all week.” Her breathy sigh sent a shiver down his spine and he had to adjust himself, his trousers becoming tighter against the semi he was sporting. “I’ve had quite a bit of trouble sleeping too, so I’ve had to take things into my own hands.”

Stannis blew out a harsh breath, his hand moved to press against his trousers in reaction to the images her words conjured in his head. He had taken to masturbating during his morning shower in a futile attempt to relieve some of the tension caused by thoughts and pictures of Sansa. That didn’t include if she sent him pictures or texts later in the day. He had brought himself off more in the last week than the last two months combined, and he certainly would never have the courage to admit such a thing outloud.

“You know, I’ve still got a few more things to sort out this week and I have family visiting tomorrow, but after that, I’m yours for the weekend. If you want me...”

_If you want me..._

Stannis didn’t reply. Couldn’t. He was too busy trying to book a train ticket and type out the web address one-handed.

 _Bugger it_.

He trapped the phone between his ear and shoulder and used two hands to swipe quickly over the keyboard.

 _There_.

“Stannis?”

“What time do you prefer to travel?”

_Click—click—click_

There was a pause and then her whisper turned excited. “What are you doing?”

“I’m booking you a train ticket.” He replied. Then he froze. Was he being too pushy? He hadn’t even asked her. “I am free this weekend. I—ahem. If you like I can book you a train ticket. Only if you were planning on driving I’d advise against it. They call them the Stormlands for a reason and the delays on trains are much less than—”

“Oh, I’d love to!” Sansa’s voice was suddenly louder, and then hushed again in a giggle. “Sorry, I’m trying to be quiet so I don’t wake everyone up. My family is terrible when they haven’t had their full eight hours. So...how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.” Stannis began looking at the fares for Saturday tickets. Paying for a return ticket to the Stormlands was hardly going to bankrupt him. “Just tell me what time you’d prefer and I’ll send the details through. I will be there to pick you up at the station.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Stannis. I’d love to. Though I don’t mind getting an early train if it’s better for you?”

“As I will be having the day off, any time is acceptable. Would you prefer an earlier train? It might reduce the number of people travelling with you?”

“Well then, if there’s a train around eight that would be great.”

Stannis had to agree. The sooner the better. A direct train from Wintertown to the Stormlands was very lucky as it would reduce the travel time quite a bit.

“Your train leaves at ten past eight from Wintertown. You should arrive just before twelve if there are no delays. I’ll send you the code to pick up the tickets.”

“That’s perfect, I can’t wait!”

She certainly sounded excited. It only took him a moment to send her the link and a second later he heard the buzz of her phone.

“Got them! Thank you, Stannis. This weekend can’t come soon enough.”

“Ahem—I am also looking forward to it.” His erection had flagged somewhat while booking the tickets, and upon catching the time in the corner of his laptop screen noticed that it was nearing midnight. “Unfortunately, I have an early start tomorrow so I will say goodnight.” It wasn’t the latest he’d been awake when he had an early start in the morning but he’d been off his game all week.

“Oh, okay.” She sounded disappointed.

In truth, he felt the same. He’d much rather stay up for another hour or so talking to her but with the contracts from Dorne coming up for review he really couldn’t afford to miss anything.

“Stannis?”

“Yes?”

“Would you mind if I called you again this week? I like texting, and we can still do that, but it’s not quite the same as hearing your voice.”

Stannis had to take a moment to compose himself unless he opened his mouth and blurt out something embarrassing. “Yes.” he said eventually, “I would like that. Goodnight Sansa.”

He heard her sigh on the other end, her hushed voice playful. “Goodnight, Stannis. I’ll be thinking of you.”

_Ah._

“I—err—yes. Goodnight.”

Stannis ended the call hurriedly and looked down accusingly at his trousers where his cock stirred interestedly.

Damn it all. His hand would have to do.

*****

Sansa put her phone down on her bedside table. Looking at all the stacked boxes in her room, she sighed. Sansa would try again in a day or so, but for now, it looked as though her hand would have to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think? How are you liking the story so far? :) Also, I thought I'd give you an update on my progress for the other fics I've got going on...
> 
> Fic progress  
> All Is Aglow - 50% of next chapter has been written  
> By My Hand - next chapter has been drafted just needs a rewrite to make it flow better  
> The North's Daughter - next two chapters have been drafted, just need re-writing. (I'm holding off on posting this fic as there's plot and such needs sorting and I'm focusing on AIA, BMH and In Need for now).
> 
> I'm also looking for a beta for my fics (though my time is limited so it'd probably only be a once a week check-in) if anyone's interested? :)
> 
> Smut in the next chapter, guys!
> 
> *disappears back into the void to finish assignments*


	9. Talk to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIGBIGBIG thank you to Sarah who checked through the chapter for me and made my rambling coherent!

When Robb, Roslin and their two boys, Brandon and Brynden, had arrived at Winterfell, the noise doubled. Mud, toys and random bits of food seemed to spring up in the strangest of places, and the spare chairs were brought out of the back room so everyone could sit together (although at very different heights) for dinner.

Thankfully it wasn’t all chaos and confusion.

Rickon, Brandon and Brynden did their level best to thoroughly wear Lady out, chasing each other about the garden and having pretend adventures with enough enthusiasm that it knocked them all out by bedtime. As Rickon was now occupied with his nephews, though they called each other cousins due to their closeness in age, it left Sansa with more time to herself though she often overheard him boasting that Lady was  _ his dog now _ . Sansa didn’t have the energy to correct him. Both he and the husky seemed pleased enough to play and give her some peace once they realised she wasn’t going to leave again anytime soon. Arya was enthralled by Robb’s description of the new all weather obstacle course, archery range and climbing centre that had just been built in the Riverlands while Bran hid in his room, gaming most of the time. He only emerged for meals and ‘activities’ if they decided to watch a film or take a trip somewhere. 

The best part of the visit, Sansa decided, was that Roslin occupied Catelyn far better than she could have hoped. There was some ‘girl talk’ Sansa was forced to endure, along with Roslin’s well meaning insights on the joys of having children, but it was far less than Sansa expected and allowed her to escape without feeling guilty for cutting off another conversation with her mother and leaving her alone to look after the children. Roslin seemed blissfully happy with motherhood, and completely in love with Robb, who would get this  _ look _ that Sansa  _ never  _ wanted to see on her brother’s face again. 

“You’ll understand when you have some of your own, Sansa.” Roslin said one day with a sappy look on her face. “There’s just something...I didn’t know I was capable of so much love until Brandon and Brynden came along -- and Robb is  _ so good _ with them.” 

The sight of her brother chasing Brandon, Brynden and Rickon about the garden did conjure an affectionate smile on Sansa’s face but didn’t conjure the broodiness her mother and sister-in-law might have been expecting. It was cute, but not cute enough to outweigh the full nappies, sleepless nights and sore tits breastfeeding would give her. She’d seen Rickon at his best, and his worst, so she was under no illusionsRobb gave a sudden roar and Arya joined in, with Lady barking excitedly with the boys as Robb and she pretended to be dragons. Lovely. But not for her. Sansa liked to be able to give them back at the end of the day.

“I don’t know what I’d do without them.” Roslin sighed, waving when Robb looked up to find them watching through the kitchen window.

Sansa was aware of the quick looks her mother shot her when conversations like this happened, usually followed by a mention of so-and-so’s son was now a Doctor. It was at this point that Sansa would smile politely and send a quick text. 

If either had the time, Stannis or Margery would call.

“Sorry,” Sansa would say apologetically in the middle of a talk on diaper rash, “I’ve got to take this.” She’d then hurry upstairs to her room or slip outside to take refuge in her father’s Land Rover so she could talk in peace.

Margery would be sympathetic and then proceed to chatter on about her day, giving Sansa the details on her  _ new man _ who she reported to still be ‘very promising’. Stannis on the other hand was much more brief, as he was usually at work when he called. He would accept her thanks and ask only that she do the same for him in return should he need it. Sansa promised she would, all he had to do was let her know and she’d make that  _ lifesaving call _ . She thought about it more often than not and during the long days at work where she was up to her eyeballs in emails and lurid coloured graphs, she would daydream about being in the Stormlands, surprising Stannis in his bed or in his shower. Perhaps cooking if she could be bothered, or ordering takeaway if she couldn’t and how she’d get a bottle of massage oil and order him to strip so she could work the knots out of his shoulders and back when he got back from work. She had mentioned a few of these to Stannis during their nightly conversations, though she didn’t want to bother him too much. She was speaking to him for around an hour a day and getting to know a little more about him in the process. Sansa would admit freely that speaking to him was the best part of her day.

It was great fun to tease him too, which she did mercilessly, intending to drive him mad with desire before their weekend together. The one word answers and stuttering breaths on the other end of the phone did make her pulse jump, but were never quite enough to bring her to the edge without the help of her vibrator. Stannis seemed reticent about  _ finishing _ while speaking to her, but he’d never said  _ no _ or  _ stop _ , so it was clear she was doing something right, though Sansa wished he’d tease her back. 

As the weekend approached, the anticipation of seeing him left a bright, bubbly feeling in her stomach and only served to make her bolder. Sansa had taken to touching herself hurriedly after their night-time calls, her lips having taken quite a beating when she tried to muffle her moans in an effort not to be overheard, and hoped the pictures she’d sent him afterward, red cheeked and sloe eyed, had provided an  _ interesting _ diversion from the papers he poured over in the evenings. 

On Thursday, after texting Stannis in the afternoon to ‘save her’ from a  _ very uncomfortable  _ conversation, Sansa called him that night for a proper chat. 

When safely tucked up in bed, door locked and curtains drawn, she found out that to make the call he’d postponed a meeting for her. Sansa pressed a hand to her belly to calm the butterflies. “I know you’ll probably hate to hear it but  _ that _ was very sweet of you, Stannis.” She heard an uncomfortable huff on the other end of the phone and bit her lip to try and hide the smile. Not that he’d be able to see it. “Sorry....is chivalrous any better?”

“...perhaps.” 

Sansa liked to think she could hear a smile in his voice. 

“You’re a real knight in shining armour, you know.” she teased “But in all seriousness, thank you for doing that.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I know what it’s like to have an...overwhelming family.” 

Sansa twirled a strand of curling red hair around her finger. “That was a very diplomatic answer, Stannis.” 

Stannis huffed. “I’ve had quite a bit of practice, unfortunately.”

Sansa could tell there was one, or several, stories behind his words, but she didn’t pry. Stannis did like to rant sometimes, and if she managed to convince him to stick around, she knew she’d hear it sooner or later. “Well, you can tell me all about your  _ overwhelming family _ this weekend.” she teased.

“I hardly think I’m going to waste time talking about them.” Stannis scoffed.

“Oh? Did you have something else in mind? Were you going to introduce me?” Sansa muffled her laugh into her pillow when he spluttered on the other end of the phone. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t expecting any of that, and truthfully, my interest in the Stormlands begins and ends with you. Your apartment -- the bedroom specifically.” 

“Are you always this brazen?” Stannis asked, amused.

Sansa gasped softly, “Why Mr Baratheon, whatever do you mean? I’ll have you know that I have barely begun to describe my desires…” her voice turned quickly to a purr, knowing that it would drive him mad. “Would you like that? If I told you how I touched myself and imagined it was you? Or if I touched myself right now and…”

“ _ Sansa _ !”

“Shy are we?” she grinned.

“Certainly not!” There was a pause and Sansa wondered whether he was going to make his excuses and say goodbye but… 

“I have never engaged  _ in--ahem-- _ ”

“Phone sex?”

“Quite.”

“Well...it’s not a thing you schedule Stannis, it should be natural. I’ll tell you what, if you like it we can see where it goes. If not, we’ll talk about something else, alright?”

Stannis paused for such a long time that Sansa wondered whether they’d been cut off.

“Stannis?”

“Very well.”

Catching her gaze in the mirror on the opposite wall, Sansa was glad that Stannis couldn’t see the grin that took over her face. “So...what’s the weather like where you are?”

“It’s...hot.” he sounded unsure. 

_ Probably shouldn’t have started with the weather. _

“Is it?” Sansa prompted, hoping he’d elaborate and not simply hang up. 

“Unbearably so. I think we’re in for another storm.”

_ Act natural. Remember. Calm. Don’t scare him off…  _ “I love listening to a storm when I’m indoors, tucked up safe and warm inside, though it’s quite cold here. Very chilly.” Stannis didn’t seem to notice how breathless she was when she spoke next, and if he did, he didn’t say anything. “I wish you were here to warm me up.”

_ That certainly got his attention _ . 

Sansa hadn’t often indulged in phone sex, and when she had, it’d taken her a little while to really get into it. Not this time. It seemed the frustration she’d been feeling all week was enough to set her blood racing at the  _ thought _ of phone sex with Stannis. 

“Is that so?” Stannis said. Even if he sounded a little unsure, any response was better than none. 

“You know, it’s so cold, I’m already in bed to warm up...I’ve been thinking about you  _ all day. _ ” Her voice was a low hum, feeling the burn of arousal start to warm her beneath the covers. Having grown up in the North it was easy enough to slip back into old habits so she’s fine in a jacket and jeans most days, and at night, as she is now, she only wears an old vest top and pair of loose shorts. “What are you wearing, Stannis?”

There’s silence on the other end and Sansa wonders whether he’ll ask her to stop. 

He doesn’t.

“I--I’m wearing a suit.”

“Still?” she hummed. The suit he’d worn the morning after their first ‘meeting’ had looked really good on him. So good, she’d wanted to get him out of it again. In her head, the image of Stannis jacket off, shirt unbuttoned and covered in sweat quickly changed to another. She imagined he’d just got in, having been caught in a storm, and was now absolutely dripping wet and would have to strip down...well. Resisting the urge to fan herself like a flustered schoolgirl Sansa knew it was just around thirty hours until she saw him next. Not that she was counting or anything. “No wonder you’re warm. It  _ really _ is a shame you’re not here right now…” 

Sansa sighed and shifted about on the bed, trying to find a more comfortable spot. She should have let her parents pick her out somewhere temporary -- doing this in her childhood bedroom is a bit weird though Sansa thanked the Gods that Lady had finally settled in Rickon’s room after realising that Sansa would be sleeping down the hall and not disappearing in the night. 

“Do you want to know what  _ I’m _ wearing?” Sansa could almost hear him deciding whether to answer that question.

“...I do.”

Sansa sent a silent  _ thank you _ to whatever impulse let Stannis take a chance on this. 

“I’m wearing a little top and shorts. It’s not much for the North but a  _ lot _ more than what I wore in King’s Landing.” The silence on the other end prompted her to continue. “King’s Landing was always so hot. Sometimes I’d wear a teeny tiny pair of knickers but most of the time I just slept naked.” Sansa grinned smugly at the noise he’d made. It was very similar to the one he’d made when she’d bitten his neck as she rode him. She suppressed a moan. That had been so hot. Perhaps she should find her vibrator? Stannis might enjoy it if she worked him up to it.

“Hold on one second, Stannis, I’ll be right back…”

_ Now, in which box had she seen it? _

*****

Stannis had never done ‘Phone Sex’ before but, until a week ago, he’d never engaged an escort either, and now he had done both -- was doing both. It felt both terribly awkward, and terribly exciting. That, or he had a stomach ulcer.

“Are you comfortable?” 

Stannis looked around him. This wasn’t wholly appropriate for his study, if they spoke here he’d never be able to concentrate on anything in here ever again. 

“How about you go and get into bed?”

“I don’t go to bed fully clothed.”

_ Well that was a stupid thing to say. Idiot. _

He heard her laugh. “I should hope not. It’s very bad for you -- best to sleep naked...or so I’m told.” There was that purr again.

“If I’m changing I can’t hold my phone.” he pointed out.

Why was he fighting this?

“You won’t take long will you, Stannis?” Then, quieter, less vixen and more sensible, “I promise if you’re not into this we can stop, just say the word.”

“No--It’s fine. Continue.”

“Alright...are you in your bedroom yet?”

“Not yet.”

Stannis shuffled his papers into a semi-neat pile and got up, phone still pressed against his ear as he headed for his bedroom. After all they’d done in his hotel room it was bound to be enjoyable, and for all his hard work over the last week he deserved this.

“Put it on speaker.” Sansa told him, letting out a soft moan, “I want you to hear me.”

Yes, he was making the right decision. It was just talk, nothing to be embarrassed about.

As he stripped and folded his shirt rather more haphazardly than usual, Sansa spoke in the background of all the things she was doing making his cock stiffen at her words. 

“I’ve put my phone on my pillow so I can use both hands...I’m playing with my nipples, pinching and pulling on them gently. I’m pretending they’re your hands, Stannis - it feels so good.”

Stannis flicked open the button on his trousers and kicked them off, pausing only to yank off his socks and throw them in the same direction.

“My right hand is slowly trailing over my ribs and across my stomach...making little circles on my hip bones…”

His boxer briefs were unceremoniously tossed aside.

“I gave myself a trim this evening when I had a shower - a nice neat little triangle. It’s so soft...”

Stannis snatched his phone from his bedside table, turned the speaker off and pressed it back to his ear, just in time to hear her moan. His other hand had grasped his cock, aching and hard, already leaking from the tip. 

“Talk to me Stannis while I touch myself, please. I need you to help me come.”

“Fuck.” Stannis rasped as his cock twitched in his hand. It felt like he had a  _ fever. _ She’d said only a few words and now here he was ready to fist his cock and head straight for the finish line.

He heard her give a breathless little laugh on the other end. “I want you to move your hand slowly. Pretend you’re taking your time with me, driving me mad with want so I have to beg you to let me finish.” 

Stannis couldn’t help it, he groaned and his face flushed readily at what she was saying and  _ how she was saying it - _ in that breathless gasping voice of hers. His skin was burning, the back of his neck damp with sweat as she spoke about how she was touching herself, how  _ he  _ would touch her if they were together right now...

“I’ve been so tense all day thinking about this, and how your cock would fill me up just right, and I’d be so  _ tight _ ...”

_ How was he supposed to last if she kept up like this? _

“You’d go slow at first, to tease me, but I’d get impatient and reach down to play with my clit and I’d be so wet -- I’m dripping for you, Stannis.”

“Gods.” he said, “I can’t. You’re so--” the words just wouldn’t come out. He could see it all in his mind and his cock felt just about ready to burst, his hand moving over it in fast firm strokes, even though she’d told him to go slow, even though--

“I’m so tight around your cock, Stannis, can you feel it?” Her breathing became heavier, and she whined and gasped as he moaned low into the phone. 

“Yes--yes you’re tight.” Damn the embarassment of finishing so quickly, he was burning up, muscles tensing, he was going to come.

How was she still talking? Had her mind not turned fuzzy and blank as his had?

“I’m so close, Stannis. Just thinking about how you fucked me from behind is making me so wet. Here, listen--”

She didn’t--couldn’t--she must have moved the phone...Fuck.  _ Fuckfuckfuck. _

“How’d you like that?” she sounds breathless and happy, panting, “this is fun, right? Just let me...oh!” 

A faint buzzing sound joins her moans, and for a moment he wondered whether her reception was faltering - gods he hoped not.

He hears her laugh. “I need more than just my fingers sometimes -- it’s what I had to find earlier, I just put some new batteries in.”

_ What? _

“I’m using my vibrator, Stannis. Though it’s not as good as your cock, I promise.”

_ Had he said that out loud? Wait. Vibrator?  _ Stannis felt his face burn at her admission. She was  _ so _ brazen. 

Sansa laughed, her voice hitching as the soft buzzing intensified in the background.

“I wish you were here, filling me over and over, fucking me till I can scarcely breathe.” 

Had he ever been so turned on in his life? Nothing had ever felt as intense as this and they were just on the phone for God’s sake. It was bliss having her voice in his ear, but torture not being able to touch her. Still, he had half a mind to ask her to do it every night they were apart. On Saturday they’d see each other again. Less than forty-eight hours. Why did it still feel too long? 

“I want to feel you for days--oh, shit. Fuck. Oh--” Sansa’s words turned into fierce and frantic little mumbles interspersed with whines and shuddering gasps. “I want you to come, Stannis. Please. I want to feel it running down my thighs when we’re finished--”  

His cock jerked at her words and he worked himself faster and faster, imagining her there with him, imagining that it was the tight sleeve of her cunt, rather than his fist, that was bringing him so quickly to release. He could just imagine the look on her face, twisted in pleasure and  _ moaning _ as she was on the phone and--

Stannis was half aware that he practically  _ shouted _ his release into the phone, the intensity blinding, for a moment uncaring whether his neighbours had heard him. His release coated his stomach thickly, and gasping as though he’d run a mile, he moved his hand slickly along his shaft as he gave a final few tugs and let his body become limp.

“That was…” he mumbled into the phone now held loosely by his ear. His words seemed slow and thick and his eyes were drooping. He couldn’t quite muster the energy to finish his sentence, finding that his vocabulary was lacking the words to describe it. He focused blurry eyes to check the mess he’d made of himself, knowing that he’d have to clean up soon or else it would turn dry and flaky and pull at the hairs when he tried to get it off. Stannis hoped he hadn’t got any of it on his bedsheets.

Sansa hummed in his ear, and for a moment they listened to one another breathe.

Eventually, she spoke. “How was that, Stannis?” he could hear the grin in her voice. “Do you approve?”

_Of course I do. Absolutely. One-hundred percent._ He would have said any of those things, but admitting it so openly felt a little embarrassing. In any case, he didn’t want to sound desperate. “I think you know the answer to that.” 

Sansa didn’t seem to mind, though, as she explained just how  _ much _ she enjoyed it. 

_ Was she trying to work him up for another round? _

He felt a chill begin to settle over his skin. Would he be enough to satisfy her? She was twenty-five and he was...old.

“That was...intense. I do not think I could go again so soon.” Stannis admitted, feeling awkward and embarrassed. “If you’re looking for more--”

Sansa cut him off. “I’m hoping you’re not suggesting that I ring someone else.” He could almost  _ hear _ her frown. “You’ve worn me out, you know and…you’re the only one I want, Stannis.” 

_ Had he felt chilled? No, of course not. He was warm. Very warm. And sweaty. He needed a shower. _

“Ah--I--well. Good,” he stammered, relaxing when he heard her laugh softly. With a brief look at the clock he realised they’d been talking for well over an hour. He felt his eyes droop and jaw crack a yawn in response.

The yawn was apparently contagious as Sansa did the same. “Well I don’t know about you, but after that, I’m ready for bed. I’ll text you tomorrow if you like?”

“That would be acceptable.” he replied. “Goodnight, Sansa.”

“Goodnight, Stannis. See you on Saturday.” Then, she blew him a kiss and hung up.

He should really take that shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter posted in early March as promised! Uni is pretty busy at the moment so it might be a little while before I update my fics again - I graduate in July (but hand in May/June time which is scary af)
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with this!


	10. Anticipation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small update to apologise for the wait you've all had to endure for this (and my other fics) I've been working on a project since May - and it should be finished by the end of September. I'm going to take a little break after that but then get right back to writing. it's been killing me that I can't post and read and comment in the tag (yes it's awful being that busy!). So here it is!
> 
> All mistakes are my own! Enjoy!

“You look lovely today, Sansa. Going somewhere special?” Roslin asked sleepily as Sansa breezed about the house, cheerful despite the early hour, a striking difference to the tired faces that were slumped over breakfast. 

Sansa usually wasn’t an early riser, but this morning she was practically bouncing with energy, awake before Rickon and his cousins had burst from their rooms to demand breakfast. Of course, there was a good reason for it.

Stannis. 

“I’m spending the weekend with some friends,” Sansa smiled, too happy to really care about the way everyone had turned to listen, watching with curiosity and no small amount of envy over her sunny disposition. It really was an ungodly hour. “It feels like forever since I saw them.” Sansa grabbed two rounds of toast from the table and began eating as she packed an apple, orange and banana into her bag. She had a small wheeled case waiting for her by the door, but she definitely didn’t want to open up her suitcase to get her lunch. There was some lovely lingerie that she’d packed which was _only_ for Stannis’ eyes.

“You’re going to Kings Landing?” Arya accused, looked up from her bowl of cereal with a scowl on her face. “How’re you getting there?”

“Train,” Sansa answered. 

Her sister’s frown deepened. “I would have driven you, y’know. No need to spend all that money on a train ticket.”

 Seeing the look on her sister’s face with no small amount of guilt, and then, a little satisfaction, Sansa realised that for Arya to willingly go to King’s Landing there must be something, or someone, that had drawn her attention. Clearly, Gendry’s number was in frequent use — there was no one else she could think of.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be going back in a week or two” she offered.

“So soon?” her dad asked looking surprised. “Travel can cost quite a bit, Sansa, if you need any money—“

“I’m fine thanks, dad” Sansa smiled, thankfully any further discussion, such as that of the renting out of her apartment or the properties they’d viewed recently, was cut off by the ringing of her phone. “Ah, that’ll be my taxi!”

“I would have driven you, darling,” Catelyn hummed, “it would have saved you the fare.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Sansa said, acting apologetic, though in truth booking a taxi was the only way she could be sure that her parents wouldn’t come into the station to ‘see her off’. It would surely lead to some _very_ awkward questions about why the train was set to go to the Stormlands rather than King’s Landing. Sansa wasn’t truly hiding anything, and she certainly wasn’t _ashamed_ as some would suggest by hiding the destination of her trip, she simply knew that if word got out that she was seeing someone she’d never hear the end of it, and she liked a quiet life too much for that.

“Right. I’ve got to go — see you Sunday, bye! Love you!”

With a chorus of “Love you too!” , “Have a nice time!” and “See you later” Sansa hurried from the house, grabbing her small case and slipped into the backseat of the taxi, grimacing as she tried to ignore Lady’s pitiful howls from the letterbox. Thankfully she did not have to endure them for long as the driver pulled away and began an easy chatter that lasted all the way to the station. 

Sansa soon found herself on the train and in her booked seat in record time, nervous and excited, knowing that in just a few hours she’d see Stannis again. 

*****

The Stormland’s Rail Station was much cleaner than that of King’s Landing. Most commuters and pleasure riders, fewer than frequented the capital, were courteous enough to deposit their rubbish and cigarette ends in the bins provided. Only a few crumpled bits of newspaper and dust were swept about by the wind that rushed through the pillared walkways.

Stannis stood, and then he sat…and then he stood again. 

Although he would never have admitted it aloud, he was nervous. The quick beat of his heart and prickling in his stomach attested to it, and although Sansa’s train was on schedule (and he’d bought a paper from one of the nearby shops to help him pass the time) it seemed as though it would never arrive. 

_It will arrive._ Stannis told himself. _Though Sansa may not be on it_.

Doubt crept in as the minutes ticked by. Had he dreamt the whole thing up? Was he reading into calls and texts, things that were not there? 

Sansa seemed eager, even happy during their conversations, but from what little experience he’d had with the fairer sex, and from thinking of his own look and demeanour, he couldn’t help but wonder at the validity of her affection. He was by no means a catch, other than his money he had little to recommend himself. He knew Sansa enjoyed sex, _he_ enjoyed sex, but lately, each notification on his phone made his heart jump with anticipation that it was from her. He was not deluded enough to ignore the reactions of his own body and pretend that it was just sex that made him react this way. The cold sweat on his palms, restlessness in his limbs and inability to focus attested to that. The very thought of Sansa would…

Then again, his own feelings were no guarantee that Sansa felt the same. The real question was if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, why would she agree to see him again? Was it the money? The first payment for their initial meeting had gone through without a hitch. He’d called the Silent Sisters and authorised another payment for the weekend they were about to spend together, a considerable amount by anyone’s measure.

If she decided to come that was.

He could be standing here like a lemon, waiting for a woman that would never arrive and several thousand gold dragons lighter. He would never be able to get it back, not only did the Silent Sisters have a no refund policy, but the thought of admitting _why_ he had transferred the money to Sansa would be too much to bear. The shame of having to pay for company would linger if he did and he could just imagine how Robert’s booming laugh would echo should he find out. 

The sudden roar of an incoming train made Stannis’ stomach tighten. That was her train…if she had decided to come.

*****

Even from this distance, Sansa could see the scowl on his face. He hadn’t spotted her yet, stuck behind business men and travellers with cases. She could have easily revealed herself — hurried around them or even lifted an arm up to wave at him, but to catch his attention would cut short her observation of him. 

Dressed in a suit he cut a fine figure, though as her eyes wandered up and down his form she couldn’t help but wonder whether he owned casual clothes. Not that she was complaining about the suit at all (it was lovely) however, there was a certain appeal to seeing a man in casual clothes. A t-shirt and shorts to show off his lovely legs. A plain top covered by an open plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Even a pair of low slung sleeping trousers would look _very_ fetching on Stannis. Perhaps she could take a peek at his wardrobe while she was there? 

_I’ll borrow his shirt in the morning. I’m sure Stannis would appreciate the view._

As she approached a gust of wind flicked her hair and in that moment she felt like someone straight out of a movie. All she needed was smoke to be clouding the station and to emerge from the clouds in a trench coat and hat to meet her lover in disguise.

_It would only be a secret because I don’t want to share him with anyone else. That and I wouldn’t want to ruin anything by announcing that I’m seeing someone. It would put quite a lot of pressure on the both of us and that’s the last thing either of us needs._

Instead of a coat, which had been stashed in her small case, Sansa wore a lovely gauzy floral summer dress with flat shoes and indeed felt quite pretty in it. It wasn’t an outfit that screamed ‘fuck me’, she would have worn the red dress for that, but it was hardly appropriate travel attire. This outfit was suitable for going to lunch or meeting her beau — which she rather hoped Stannis would want to be eventually if he didn’t already. 

The butterflies in her stomach gave a particularly vigorous flutter when Stannis spotted her, feeling flattered when his eyes widened at the sight of her.

“Stannis!” She called, grinning as she picked up her pace a little.

As soon as she reached him she let her small wheeled case rock into place beside him and threw her arms around his neck to give him the kiss of a lifetime. It was a little forceful due to her enthusiasm but Stannis doesn’t seem to mind at all. Other than his surprise at her public show of affection he was quick enough to wrap his arms around her waist and return her kiss with equal enthusiasm. 

It didn’t last long enough to be unseemly and Sansa pulled back to admire the dazed look on Stannis’ face with satisfaction.

A passerby sighed, looking at them, and said to their companion, “isn’t that lovely…” 

To which their friend replied, “must be newlyweds.” 

_No_ , Sansa thought smugly _, but hopefully fucking like it soon enough._

Sansa smiled, unable to resist placing another, softer, kiss on his lips. She hadn’t worn lipstick since she didn’t think Stannis would like it too much if he ended up with it smeared all over his face. Once they were back at his apartment she might put some on - he might not mind it in other places. 

Margery had often explained the allure of ‘marking’ your lover, if not with lipstick then with love bites and little bruises made from more vigorous activities. It was certainly something to think about. 

Sansa took in the creases in his forehead, crows feet by his eyes and light shadows beneath. She looked at his freshly shaven jaw and sharp cheekbones, trailing her gaze across his thin lips, up the bridge of his nose to meet his dark blue eyes. Though Stannis hasn’t said a word yet, she too was having difficulty coming up with something to talk about. She’d had no problems texting him or talking on the phone, but in person it was quite different. 

Sansa just wanted to _look at him_.

And kiss him.

And jump his bones.

Of course they were in public so she couldn’t do much toward the latter. She needed to seem like suitable date material, and suitable date material would not get them both arrested for public indecency.

Her thoughts were written clear as day over her face, the heat in her eyes obvious enough that even Stannis could spot it.

“Hello to you too,” she purred when he cleared his throat at her staring. _Adorable_. “So…how are you?”

His look was intense and for a moment Sansa thought he’d kiss her. 

“Much better now that you’re here.” He answered quickly enough, though once spoken it seemed the words surprised him. 

“Oh my! That was suave, _sir!_ ” It sounds like something he would say when they were _talking_ , and then she could see the expression on his face and how the heat crept into his cheeks, she couldn’t resist teasing him. “Have you been practicing?” she asked lowly, pressing forward just a little to— _ah ha!_ Sansa smiled up at him as he flushed, knowing that she’d felt his _growing interest._

Stannis cleared his throat, cheeks pink and said “My car is just outside. Shall we?” 

_Perfect._

Sansa grinned up at him and allowed him to take her case, passing the handle to him with a soft _thank you_ as excitement bubbled in her belly. 

**Author's Note:**

> WIP, decided to post it now rather than having it sit in my drafts. I know I need as much fic as possible after the train wreck that is the show. May come back to this after I've finished my other two fics for stannis/sansa that are being written right now.


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